Memories
by DrabbitDragonLord
Summary: "As he watched the little ones play, he couldn't help but recall to a time when he used to call a Viking his friend." An old dragon, with a mysterious past, becomes the central focus of a curious Night Fury hatchling. (Movie Universe, offers some insight to the origins of the Viking-dragon feud; features Wodensfang and Hiccup the First from the books)
1. The Runt and the Elder

_Memories_

_Chapter 1: The Runt and the Elder_

On such beautiful nights, the herd of Night Furies loved to relax. Being nocturnal, they slept through the cold days. In the nights, they followed their instincts and hunted. Well, aside from the hatchlings and elders. They could not hunt due to their lack of experience and shrinking strength.

Their lifestyle was difficult, due to poachers and declining egg survival. There were few of them in their small herd; estimated twelve females and five males. And this was not including the hatchlings; although there were roughly eight hatchlings which survived the past harsh winter.

Nine of the females were mothers, either of their first batch or had many before. They were weary of their young ones playing with each other, afraid the dominant males would kill them with one swipe of their claws. This was the life of a dragon, after all; however, the males were not aggressive tonight. They seemed to spare the youngsters of one more night in life before displaying their hierarchy amongst the male hatchlings.

One hatchling, with scales as dark as their species' namesake, was receiving his daily bath as he groaned in annoyance.

"_Please, I wanna play!_" he whined with a trill in his throat. He fixated on the other male hatchlings who were tugging at each other aggressively. Oh, how the small hatchling wished to play with them!

"_They will hurt you_," his mother cooed protectively as she cleaned his scales. "_You are small compared to them_."

The black-scaled hatchling moaned sadly. She was too protective of him! It wasn't _his_ fault he was the last and only hatching of his mother's litter. Or that he hatched later than the rest. He was small, but he could be vicious.

So why could he not play with his fellow hatchlings?

The runt immediately formed an idea. He looked up at his mother and concentrated on her. He knew if he stared long enough, his pupils would round out and result to give him anything he wanted.

The charcoal-scaled Night Fury sighed. "_It will not work._"

Without hesitation, the runt crawled up to his mother and slowly purred against her foreleg. If this didn't soften her decision, he did not know what will.

Another sigh from his mother. "_Go on, then._" He leaped happily and nuzzled her quickly before he took off to play with the other hatchlings. "_And stay away from the Wodensfang!_"

The runt, whom was considered a runt compared to the other hatchlings, jumped into the pile of playful Night Furies. The young hatchlings played their little game of tag as they chased each other. From their perspective, they were big tough dragons, who could easily kill those widely stretched out tales of bloodthirsty creatures known as Vikings. Yea, they could kill! They will protect their herd.

The runt rolled from beneath his brothers and tumbled against an elder.

The other hatchlings watched in anticipation as the runt shook his head in confusion. His friends crept closer but they kept their distance. Their scales, individually ranging from dark forest green to the darkest shade of purple, shook in fear of the expected trouble their youngest companion would experience.

Slowly, the elder lifted his head. Years of outliving most of the herd caused his naturally dark blue scales to whiten, and it was apparent from the white around his neck and around his blue eyes.

The hatchlings knew of this elder. He was strange; he was the oldest dragon in the herd, yet never did he speak to the young ones. All he did was murmur in his sleep or bare his teeth at yearlings who were dared to disturb him. There were times he would snap his worn down teeth at yearlings, and snatch half their skin off. They would survive, but left ugly scars for the rest for their lives.

The runt's pupils thickened at the sight of the elder, hoping to appeal to the elder. He knew of the stories, of the elder known as the Wodensfang. Of how he would claw at even the hatchlings.

He had every right to be afraid.

However, the unexpected thing happened. The Wodensfang merely growled and shifted his head away from the hatching.

The runt backed away quickly, and hid within the group of his companions. He ignored the peering of the others, ignoring the endless questions of how he survived the confrontation.

His mother picked him up by his wings and dragged him back to his nest.

"_Why did you go near the Wodensfang?_" she demanded.

She pressed her paw against his tail to prevent him from crawling away in shame. "_I warned you to never go near him!_"

He moaned, but not only in pain. He knew his mother was furious. "_I... I didn't mean to. The others knocked me over._"

She sighed as she cleaned between his small ears. "_You are lucky he did not hurt you; not many hatchlings get away with disturbing the Wodensfang's peace._"

Her hatchling nodded in understanding. He had heard the tales of the mysterious Wodensfang; of how he lived in their colony for many generations and hardly spoke; how the old dragon could easily kill a male adult with a single tear to the throat, and leaving hatchlings scarred. This little hatchling, of dark green eyes and a curious personality too reckless for his own good, was like any other hatchling whom approached the Wodensfang.

_Why had the Wodensfang left me unharmed?_

* * *

The Wodensfang growled as he watched the young Night Furies played.

He never bothered with the young. They were too... _energetic_. Naive. _Dumb_, even, to realize no one bothered the Wodensfang. For anything. Which was why he would slash the throats of the young if they disturbed him.

He had to admit: he enjoyed the loneliness.

For generations, he watched Night Furies grow up and leave their nests and get killed by Vikings. He saw the fights of other males and the winners mating with the young females, before they met their fate of spears and chains. The friends he observed dying, helpless to save them. Eggs he saw to hatching or remaining unhatched forever. Brothers and sister he witnessed slaughtered. Grandchildren dying from the wrath of Vikings.

He groaned and burrowed in his nest. This nest stood here, in this exact spot, for many winters. More than he could count. It had been here since _he_ hatched. Where he saw his mother's blue irises shinning down at him, as he licked her moist nose, for the first time. Where he watched his younger brothers and sisters hatch from their charcoal shells. Where he first learned how to stretch his little wings and allowed the wind to sweep him to the sky.

How long had it been since he flew?

Being many years older than the oldest adults, the Wodensfang was considered... different. Not because he never spoke or slash at hatchlings, but because he had a name.

"_They say he received his name from the ancient elders_," the adults would murmur.

Wodensfang could only chuckle to himself. _Dragons are not of intellect as the Vikings are_. Unlike Vikings, dragons never had the necessity to name their children. It was simply a distinguished trill of the back of their throats to tell apart the youngsters. And names were redundant. Unneeded.

Yet he kept his human-like name.

The old Night Fury was known by the tribe. The only Night Fury with grey eyes, dulled from years of exposure to mist and, well, the harms of the living world. But those eyes were wise: they saw everything. He had his voice in wisdom for decision-making, with nods of approval or disapproval. Which was why he never challenged for the title of Alpha: he enjoyed his small, wise role.

He could not help but think of the green-eyed hatchling whom awoke his nightly nap.

Those green eyes. They were uncommon for a Night Fury. Most Night Furies either were born with deep blue or piercing yellow eyes. With various shadings of blue and yellow, of course.

But green. Green was definitely unheard of for a Night Fury. Or a dragon, at most.

_Just like him_.

The Wodensfang groaned, as though shaking his head would cease the memory of his past. Of the small creature he encountered generations ago. At a time where this creature was his best friend whom he could never change for the world. In a world where dragons were non-existent to humans, hidden in the shadows.

He could not help but glance back at the little ones chasing each other. It was something to distract himself from the forming memories. How the little ones pulled each other's ears and spread their tiny wings in short flight. Like he did at their age with his litter.

_He was playful, too._

Thinking of his old friend caused a sad murmur to escape his ancient mouth. Oh, the days he spent playing with him, learning new things from each other, and the adventures they shared. But that was many years ago. In a more peaceful time.

As he watched the little ones play, he couldn't help but recall to a time when he used to call a Viking his friend.

* * *

_Hi guys! If you do not know me, I was originally under the penname Bella Skywalker, but have changed it. I have written a series of one-shots called A Father's Love, if you have or have not checked it out already.  
_

_ I decided to write a little story, featuring my favourite character from the books: Wodensfang! (I have him tagged under OC because he's not an option on the list)  
_

_I originally wrote this purely on Wodensfang with his flashbacks of himself and Hiccup the First (actually, it was only going to be a one-shot). It was suppose to serve as an explanation to why there was a Dragon War in the Movies. Staying true to this, I also decided to expand this little hatchling's character, along with Wodensfang.  
_

_I got the idea of Night Furies having different shades of black from the story "He's Not Dangerous", by Raberba girl. Thanks :)  
_

_If you like, I shall continue :)_


	2. Curious Creatures

_Memories_

_Chapter 2: Curious Creatures_

The evening was beginning to enter the lives of the herd of Night Furies, and so far, no one had awaken. Like they _ever_ woke up early. Night Furies did not enjoy too much daylight. It bothered their eyesight and disrupted their flight. Therefore, the less sunlight there was, the better it was for them to hunt and stay stealthy.

The runt, however, was awake. He nuzzled against the warmth of his mother and yawned at the break of sunset. Stretching his paws, his wings instinctively opened out and widened to their full length (which was only the span of one of his mother's forelegs). He couldn't help but release a small whine from the back of his throat as he yawned once again.

His mother stirred slightly, but she continued to sleep. The black-scaled runt could tell since she released soft murmurs through her nostrils and warm air from her nostrils.

_This_ was the moment to strike. As quietly as he could, he crawled away from his mother.

Then there were the other Night Furies to worry about. Although the dragon herd preferred to rest with their distinguished mates and offspring, Night Furies tended to sleep near each other. Whether it was hanging from trees or nestled under charcoal dirt, the herd loved the sense of warmth and protection created during their sleeping hours by their close encounters.

The runt had to either crawl over or around his many cousins. This was difficult, because Night Furies loved their sleep. If any awoke, the runt would have found himself unable to move due to the various injuries.

Now, most of the adults weren't his _actual_ cousins, or at least close enough to be _considered_ cousins. In fact, only one of the males was his blood uncle (his mother's nest-brother), and two hatchlings from the past spring were his closest cousins. The herd referred each other as cousins because they regarded each one as family, despite their protective and vicious nature. Brothers, sisters and parents were referred to as such in addition.

The runt wondered if the Wodensfang would consider him his cousin.

_He must or he would have hurt me_, the runt could not help but think.

The Wodensfang was sleeping on the ground, in the old rubble he always slept in. Deteriorating charcoal laid under his dark blue scales, and there were hints of freshly made coal from what the runt could, the old dragon was by himself (per usual), a few feet from the closest pile.

The runt quietly sat a few feet away from him. Inching closer in a quick pace would be futile. So the runt patiently walked closer and fixated his eyes on the sleeping elder that grew with every inch.

He could feel the adrenaline scorch through his little body, like a blast of plasma about to be released from his mouth. He was so _close_! He could feel the warm breath escaping loudly from the larger dragon. _He snores louder than Mama._

Gently, he lifted his paw and poked the elder. He immediately pulled back and backed up in a stance.

Yet the Wodensfang did not move.

_Must be a sound sleeper_, the runt mused. He crept up again and lifted his law closer to his head and tapped the elder's head again.

He was met with grey eyes. _Big_, grey eyes that screamed at the runt, as though its mere look of terror would scare him away.

The runt froze immediately.

For the old dragon, he merely growled and shifted his body away from the hatchling. His wings, tethered with age, lifted up so he could move comfortably in a new position. But also to block his view of the hatchling.

The runt cooed happily. He was finally getting his attention!

He walked around to face where the elder's eyes were. There, he poked at his head again.

Another growl escaped from under the wings.

This time, the runt jumped away from the beast. He knew, from the old dragon's tone, this was a warning. And the runt may not receive another warning.

But curiosity filled the young one. Why was he grumpy? When the hatchling was upset, his mother would nuzzle him until he rubbed his head back. It always worked on him and he eventually learned to love it.

_Maybe he needs a cuddle._

Filled with bravery, the hatchling crept closer to the Wodensfang and nuzzled his head affectionately against a huge paw. He hastily backed away, anticipating on the Wodensfang's response. Would he get a growl? Or receive a swat? _Anything_?

But there was no reaction.

The Wodensfang lifted his wing, slowly, and stared menacingly at the runt. His eyes were slated, as usual, but they were slightly thicker now.

The runt crept closer to him. Was he... warming up to him?

_"You should be in your nest, with your mother."_

The runt gaped slightly, but he immediately ran back to the other dragons.

Dodging and climbing over Night Furies was more difficult, since they were waking up. He saw his mother near the middle and crawled under her arm.

It was there he noticed he was shaking. Never, in his young life, did he ever hear such a deep, raspy growl from a dragon. One that caused his entire being to freeze, like a Flightmare.

_And he spoke! _The old Wodensfang never spoke, according to the other Night Furies. What did this mean, if the old dragon spoke to a runt?

He forgot how early it was, because the stars were beginning to appear and Night Furies were stretching.

His mother yawned graciously and glanced down at him. She nuzzled him lovingly. "_My, you're up early._" She tilted her head curiously and licked him. "_Are you alright? You're shaking_."

The runt snuggled closer in his mother's forelegs. "_Bad dream_."

"_Was it from yesterday?_" she asked, referring to that incident. The runt nodded and snuggled closer to her. "_My brother had nightmares after he was slashed from the Wodensfang._" She rubbed his head again. "_Do not worry; the nightmares will go in time. I will protect you, alright?_"

The runt nodded, although his mind burned with questions of the Wodensfang. Who _was_ this dragon? Why did he never interact with anyone? Why did the Wodensfang never speak, but he did to the _runt_?

He yawned. It _had_ been quite early when he woke up. Besides, this warmth he shared with his mother, this was what he needed. Safety.

He figured those questions could wait.

* * *

_...Many Years Ago..._

The leaves tickled his nose.

He was not used to standing in the treetops. Never in his shirt life of seventeen winters did he have to. However, this was good leverage. It was easier to view any prey passing by.

His species, which hid in the darkness of night, hunted from the ground. Their small statures, compared to other dragon species, was smaller. They could easily hide in the dark shadows, and they greatly depended on the darkness of their scales. Hunting was their instinct; hiding was their birthright.

He groaned in frustration. There was nothing on this island. Just a mountain of an island with fish in the sea surrounding it. If there were sheep, it would be great. Those furry mongrels could satisfy the hunger of his Queen, more than fish could.

The dragon grumbled as he crept down the tree. Stupid, empty island. This island had plenty of sheep in the past. He always went here for hunting (unlike the rest of the dragons whom traveled to a far land for bigger prizes). It was the closest to the nest.

He sniffed the air, allowing his nostril to take in the many scents of the island. _Hmm. No sheep here_.

**_Crack_**_._

_Wait. What was that?_

He spread his wings slightly and allowed the wind to glide him down to the green patch of grass below. It helped him land gently on the ground. The grass prickled against his bare feet, but he was used to it.

Instinct forced him to follow this scent. This smell was... _different_. Mixed with fresh pine and different sweets. Oh, is that _sweat_? He caught the stench of open spores. The dragon couldn't help but stick his tongue out from the overpowering odor.

"Oi! Come _on_, Hiccup!"

He immediately crawled into a nearby bush, ignoring the pain of the prickles that stuck in his back. Luckily, he was used to the pain. He positioned himself so he could easily see any trespassers. He listened carefully, aware of any movement from these new scents.

Two strange creatures appeared. Strange was the right word to describe them. They stood on their hind legs. Their heads were mounted with fur. And they wore fur on their bodies, but of various animal stenches. The Night Fury muttered in confusion. _Why would creatures wear animal fur?_

From what he could smell, they were both male. Definitely.

"You know I can't keep up."

One was obviously bigger than the other. Both in height and weight. He must have been an alpha, because his body structure was large and he bore horns on his head. Rather big horns.

The other... was small. Sickly. Unlike his companion, this creature had a small set of horns.

He sniffed the air once again. There was the scent of fish. Salty, wet, fresh fish in their grasp!

For some strange reason, and it was not the fish, the dragon found himself intrigued by these new creatures. They were so pale and thin compared to most dragon species. _What kind of creatures stood upon their hind legs and spoke in strange tongue?_ He squatted lower to the ground. Maybe he will stay a little longer to find out.

"You think dragons exist?" the small one asked.

The Large One creating a whooping noise that was foreign to the dragon. "Nah, those are old stories Uncle Horrendous told us as children, Hiccup."

The Small One, or Hiccup, rolled his eyes. "Call me crazy, but they are real."

"Okay, Crazy."

"Oh, shut up, Mammoth."

The dragon eyed the one known as Hiccup. He could easily take this one. The bigger, well, he would have difficulty. This Mammoth would put up a fight, without a doubt, and that stick he held in his beefy claws would be used against the dragon. The small boy would do well to quench the Queen's hunger.

"I'll get some wood. You stay put."

"Just because you're three years older than me, it does not mean you are the boss."

The bigger boy laughed. "I'm your brother. I'm just watching over you." He smacked Hiccup's shoulder. "Stay. And don't wander. Father will have my head."

"Got it, brother."

The dragon watched as the Large One, identified as Mammoth, left. The Mammoth stepped through the thick forest with some type of stick in his hand that looked sharp at the end.

There it was. The Hiccup. Alone.

This was his moment, his time to pounce. He retracted his teeth from his gums and engaged his claws. He could easily kill this creature with one stick with his teeth or simply scrape the ugly face right off.

On instinct, he jumped from the bushes and tackled the Hiccup.

Before the Hiccup could scream, the Night Fury pressed his paw against his chest. This tactic was known in his species. The prey was unable to alert any other larger prey. And in good conscious; this Hiccup would be stupid to alert the Mammoth.

He lifted his other claws, ready to give this Hiccup a merciful death. His Queen shall taste the leaning flesh of this Hiccup.

But the dragon saw something.

The Hiccup glanced up at him with true horror in its eyes. Not that the dragon never saw fear; he witnessed fear in many animals before he killed them.

But this. This was different in the Hiccup His breathing was quick and short. He could tell the Hiccup was losing breath, as his face was going blue.

However, it was the boy's eyes that stopped him.

His eyes were green.

He had never seen green in eyes before. They were so... uncommon. In dragons and other animals. _Did this trait of green eyes exist in only this species?_

"_Kill it_," his instincts growled.

He snarled. His Queen needed food. This would give her some satisfactory. The chance to taste a new species unknown to the nest... yes, this will make his Queen happy. It may have some taste behind its bony flesh.

But he couldn't.

This creature... was intelligent. It had a brother. An uncle. Maybe a herd or a colony. Perhaps a father and mother.

_A family who would miss him._

The dragon didn't show any sign of remorse. Winters of serving the Queen changed him into a merciless beast who hunted without question. If he were to show pity on such a runt like this, he would not be considered a killer.

To prove his dominance, he roared in the Hiccup's face and took off into the woods.

He ignored the pain in his wings as he crashed through the trees. They stung him and gashed open his scales. He ignored them as he ran through the thick forest and pushed against the stinging branches. He continued to run until he found a clear opening of just grass.

He flapped his wings and prepared to escape from the island. He _hated_ this island! There was not suppose to be creatures here, that stood on hind legs and could speak. They weren't suppose to have... feelings!

But he found it very difficult to leave. His wings stung from pushing against the branches. Yet, he pushed pass the pain. He wan not staying here. He would not hunting here ever again! He needed a new hunting ground.

His senses tingled, the way they did when the herd was on their way to feeding. No, he couldn't go to the nest. His Queen would be _furious_! She needed food or they were all going to die. He _had_ to find food somewhere else.

He shook his head of the green irises he saw.

He only hoped he would never have to encounter the creature again, or if it was smart enough to not go looking for him.

* * *

_Damn dreams_, he grumbled.

He released a yawn from his mouth and looked up at the night sky. Hmm, tonight was quite beautiful. The sky was black, but the stars shined brightly with the full moon glaring down at the herd. The wind was also surprising dim and he could smell the pines caught in the light breeze. A perfect night to go hunting, if he did say so himself.

The Wodensfang looked over at where the runt had run off to. The little hatchling was cuddling with his mother in their nest. Seemingly, the two were happy in each of their presences.

_Why is this hatchling so interested in me?_ No one ever showed him the time or day. Not even when he returned home so many winters ago to a bloodshed of his kind.

The way the hatchling looked at him with fear in his green eyes... It was _scary_.

Scary because the boy not only shared the hatchling's green eyes, but he showed fear.

_Just like the boy._

Strangely enough, the Wodensfang found himself smiling. It had been forever since he smiled. He thought of the summers when he sat on the lone island and soaked up the sun's warmth. Sitting with Hiccup and talking for hours. How long had it been since he could just sit with his Hiccup and talk about... well, _anything_. To not care if the world passed them or not. If it did, well, he would not care. He would have been happy if he could be with him, to sit

_Too long_, he grumbled softly, with a hint of sadness.

He spent years trying to hide those memories, to never look back on them. Yes, some were happy memories, but there were dark memories buried there, too. Many which he promised himself he would never look back on. Thinking of the boy was too painful because of those memories. Those bad one. The ones that crawled in his sleep, turning into nightmares. That showed his fears. Causing him to wake up in the day.

Shaming him.

Seeing those curious, green eyes brought those nightmares back. Made him relive the awful memories of his past, the one shrouded in mystery. Forced him to come in terms with the guilt he carried for years. Tormented his old heart to the brick of pain. Making him realize he both hated and longed for the eyes he saw in the runt.

The ones that matched his Hiccup's green eyes.

* * *

_This chapter was longer than I planned it to be. However, you guys deserve it._

_Just to clarify this: the runt with the green eyes is Toothless. I originally had the runt as some hatchling who was purely fascinated with the Wodensfang, but as I developed the story, I was reminded how the Wodensfang originally did not like Toothless in the books. So I made Toothless the hatchling here :)_

_Whoa, five favourites and follows already? Along with two reviews for the first chapter? That's amazing! _

_Thanks for the great feedback, guys :)_ _ I'll see you soon!_


	3. A Different Approach

_Memories_

_Chapter 3: A Different Approach_

_"Fish!"_

The runt dived in the pile of fresh fish. Not caring, he pushed through the other Night Furies to claim his prize. Wet, soggy, fresh fish piled up in the middle of the herd, courtesy of the hunting party (the young adult females). The rest of the herd pushed through each other and fought to their breakfast, ignoring the small hatchlings. The adult males won, but the females were quite resilient and fought back with snarls.

Something about grasping the flapping fish caused the runt to feel grown up. He had wanted to get breakfast by himself for a long time, so this was his chance to prove he could, for his mother. He grabbed two large salmon and pulled out of the piling Night Furies. Proudly, he trotted over to his mother and passed them to her.

The charcoal-scaled Night Fury could not help but nuzzle her head against her darker son. "_My strong boy_," she purred, with pride in her blue eyes. She grabbed a fish with her mouth and chucked it down. A few moments later and she regurgitated it back to her son.

The run swallowed it with little trouble. He was getting better at eating, well, _swallowing_ the fish.

He looked over and watched the Wodensfang. He could not help but stare at him with curiosity. He knew his mother would not approve of him being so intrigued by the elder, but he couldn't help it. He had so many questions about the Wodensfang.

There was something odd about the old dragon. Well, more odd than usual. He merely looked away from the pile of fish and ignored the fiasco that ensued from the rivaling males, expressing their dominance. He didn't even try to join the Night Furies and catch breakfast.

He pushed against his mother. "_Momma, why he have no fish?_" he asked, looking back at the Wodensfang.

His mother growled. "_Elders do not fend for themselves_." However, she glanced over at where her son was looking and she noticed the Wodensfang ignoring the feeding. "_He must be reaching his time_."

The runt looked up at his mother curiously. "_What does that mean, Mama_?"

For some reason, his mother hesitated. "_Elders know when their time here is ending. Soon, he will join our ancestors_," she explained, eventually.

"_Ancestors?_" he asked.

"_Our many grandfathers and grandmothers, whom have left us to fly the skies,_" she clarified.

The runt shook his head. He had never heard of these ancestors whom roamed the sky. "_Where do they fly?_" he asked.

"_To_ _the land of Tomorrow. A place filled with fish and no pain_," she illustrated. "_They say Tomorrow is plentiful, with green grass, a Great Dragon that protects them, and all the dragons are friends._" She licked her son. "_We all go to Tomorrow, in one way or another_."

The runt felt cold suddenly. This... land of Tomorrow sounded amazing, but he was not sure of it. Only old, unhatched or gravely injured dragons left to Tomorrow. Sure, the Wodensfang was ancient, but he outlived the oldest female, whom was passed eighty winters. No one really knew how old the Wodensfang was, but they suspected he saw over two hundred winters.

Tomorrow sounded like paradise, but what did it mean for the Wodensfang? Will he join this land soon?

The runt tried to hide the whine that escaped his throat. He wanted Wodensfang to stay _here_, even if it was only for a little time. He wanted to get to know the old dragon. He had so many questions to ask before he left.

He looked up at his mother. "_I...I give him fish?_" he asked.

"_I don't see why not_," his mother figured. "_Just be careful._"

Bravely, the runt ran back to the dimming pile and snatched two more fish. Luckily, the adult males had fought over their share of fish, and did not press for more. Some of the hatchlings complained that he already took two helpings (and they needed third helpings). However, the runt ignored their growls as he dragged the biggest pair of fish he could carry.

It was a struggle to carry fish bigger than himself, and the fact that the old dragon slept as far away as possible from the rest of the herd. In addition, the other Night Furies watched the runt drag the slimy and tasty fish pass them. It was a wonder that they did not attack the vulnerable hatchling and take advantage of the fish.

He looked up at the Wodensfang and pushed the two fish forward. In anticipation, he sat down and watched the Wodensfang.

For what seemed like forever, the Wodensfang merely stared at the fish. As though he was remembering something, about the cod. The runt did not understand why the old dragon was not eating. If he was given fish, he would gladly eat it.

"_What is it? I have never met a more curious hatchling._"

The runt gulped. This was the most the old dragon has spoken. "_I... you no hurt me._"

The Wodensfang sighed, but he did not look down at the runt. "_I didn't_," he acknowledged.

Slowly, the runt inched closer. "_Why?_"

He wasn't trying to sound rude, but why would the Wodensfang not hurt him. It was a burning question in his little mind, and he wanted it answered. He was curious, after all. Was it wrong to be curious?

The Wodensfang sighed heavily, and bent his head down. He had his grey eyes on the runt as he inched for the fish. Retracting his teeth, he grabbed a hold of one fish and dragged it closer to him. He raised his head up and chugged the whole fish down.

Once he was finishing his second one, he huffed. "_Thank you. Now go._"

The runt tilted his head in confusion. That was it? Nothing? No explanation as to why he was left unharmed?

Sighing, he stood up and walked back to his mother.

At this point, all of the fish had been ate. There was the odd half-eaten tail left here and there, but those were being fought between some of the male hatchlings. The runt barely noticed as one fish flopped around him, somehow still alive after being out of water. An adult male swooped in after it, almost knocking over the runt.

"_I saw you were talking with him,_" his mother acknowledged, as he curled up against her dark scales.

The runt nodded. "_He talk to me._"

She tilted her head. "What is the matter?"

"_I ask him something, and he no answer_," the runt said. This old dragon was strange; he didn't hurt the runt, yet he spoke to him. Then he wouldn't even say as to why he did not hurt the smaller dragon. _He's confusing..._

"_Yes, it's strange," _His mother agreed. She always knew what her son was talking or thinking about, and it helped since he could not always say what he was thinking_. "He must be interested in you_."

Despite his curious questions, the runt could not help but feel proud of that one fact.

* * *

_...Many years ago..._

Why he came back to the island, he did not know.

It was his regular routine to go to the island, to catch fish and all for the Queen. Then there were the odd yaks, sheep and wolves that roamed the empty island. However, it had been years since he saw wolves. He figured they died off or something. He always came here for food, after all.

Yet, it was that _incident_ that caused him to think otherwise.

Dragons did not know the concept of guilt, but the dragon could not help but repeat the incident in his mind, over and over. How the small Hiccup looked up at him with fear in his widened, green eyes. How the Hiccup's breathe was short and quick, and would have screamed if the dragon had not almost smashed his chest underneath his paws.

He hid up in the trees, just as he did three nights ago. He was lucky the night was still up, as the sky camouflaged him from the rest of the night. Oh, how he enjoyed his dark scales.

Noises caught his attention, causing his ears to raise in awareness. Small branches cracked under the weight of something. The grass was lightly trampled. Pebbles bounced against larger boulders with some force. It sounded almost like a small animal trying to find a place to bury their food before the winter season settled.

"I _swore_, he was here!"

The dragon looked down and saw the cause of the noise. The Hiccup!

He recognized the small creature from anywhere. Wearing the different animal hides, an in addition to the small brown paws he walked on that did not match his pale face. The dragon cooed softly.

The Hiccup was carrying something on his back. It smelt of animal hide, of course, but there was something salty mixed with it. He placed the hide down, along with some wood. The dragon watched curiously as the Hiccup set the wood in a neat pile and rubbed two branches together. In quick time, heat formed under the two branches. _What is he doing?_ The dragon could not help but wonder.

Suddenly, fire appeared.

The dragon, if he could, would have dropped his jaw in amazement. This tiny little Hiccup made fire! And he didn't even have to open his mouth to breathe out any! The dragon then realized: how can a small creature make fire? Only dragons could create fire!

The dragon's senses started to tingle. The salty smell from the animal hide was growing stronger, and he recognized it immediately. _Fish!_ He though, hungrily. The thought of swallowing the entire pile of cod near the Hiccup made his stomach growl. _Damnit_. It was loud. He only hoped Hiccup did not hear.

As quiet as he could, he crept down from the tree. However, he didn't place his foot properly on the next step and he slipped.

The fall itself was painful. His tail and wings were wedged between two branches and he could feel some scar reopen from when he raced through the trees days ago. He locked his jaw together, to prevent him from moaning in pain.

He looked over and his blue eyes locked with a pair of green.

The Hiccup wore the same animal hide, but the dragon suddenly recognized the fur on his head. It was... brown, mixed with auburn. Dark, but he found the Hiccup's green eyes almost popped out in comparison. Wait, where were his horns? He wore horns if the dragon recalled.

Hiccup's eyes widened. He reached down at his seat and pulled out something metal. Slowly, he placed it on his auburn fur. _Oh, his horns can be taken off! _The dragon noted with interest.

Perhaps he was trying to look intimidating. He would need all the help he could get with appearing intimidating. The Hiccup was small and weak as it was. Maybe those horns _would_ help him. The dragon could only assume; these two-legged creatures were strange.

"You... You're the dragon who..."

The dragon nodded, but he moaned sadly.

Hiccup's mouth stretched downward. "Oh, you poor thing." He walked up to the tree and drew out a small sharp metal tool. The dragon was impressed that the small creature could climb trees. Hiccup started to rub the branch with the tool back and forth and the dragon noticed how the branch was thinning out.

The dragon dropped down on his feet. Ah, he missed the feel of the prickling grass. It was satisfying, for some reason, to have his feet back on the ground and supported by gravity.

Hiccup walked back to the fire and continued to cook his fish.

The dragon could not help but walk closer to Hiccup. The burning smell of fish tickled his nose, but the raw fish was watering his mouth. He felt bad for trying to take the fish, but instincts permitted him to listen to reason. He hadn't eaten for days!

"Oh, you want fish?" Hiccup grabbed a few and threw them closer to the dragon.

The dragon eagerly swallowed down the cod. Oh, it was so _good_! The slippery cod filled his stomach and he found himself wanting more. As he continued to chuck more fish down, he couldn't not help but recall how long it had been since he ate.

"Amazing. I've never seen anything like it," he muttered.

The dragon was not sure what the Hiccup was talking about. However, at the moment, he was preoccupied with the delicious cod he was eating. It may have been days since he was able to eat, but he was happy now. This Hiccup had given him food.

"Oh, you want more? More?" Hiccup asked.

The dragon tilted his head in confusion._ What is this word? Does it mean fish?_ He tried to mimic the noise Hiccup made by pressing his mouth together and vibrating his throat:

"M...m...mmmmmm..."

Hiccup's green eyes widened, if it were possible. He stared at the dragon in curiosity. "More?" he repeated. "Are you trying to say _more_?"

The dragon nodded, enthusiastically. "More!" The dragon was speaking the Hiccup language, wasn't he?

Hiccup held up another piece of fish. "Fish?" he asked, holding the cod.

The dragon stared at the juicy cod swaying in front of him. He could not help but drool over the thought of swallowing the fish whole, and satisfying the hunger in his empty stomach. If repeating this words got him fish, then he was happy to speak.

"F...fish!" the dragon repeated.

Hiccup smiled. "This is _amazing_! You can talk!"

The dragon stared at the Hiccup. What was this upward gesture he was making with his mouth? He tried to mimic the boy, by stretching his mouth upward. It was a strange gesture, but if the boy was doing it, then it must have been

"Talk!" he said.

Hiccup laughed. "_Amazing_! And you can smile, too!"

The dragon mimicked the whooping noise, in response. Yes, it was strange, but this boy was strange. In fact, everything about this boy was strange. From the horns he could take off, the different stenches of animals he wore, and the green eyes that glowed when the dragon did something mildly impressive. This was a strange creature.

A strange creature he was slowly liking.

* * *

The Wodensfang rubbed his nose with his paws. Why were these memories resurfacing, and after all these years?

He looked back down and noticed the runt had left once again. Hmm, probably went back to his mother... Just to be certain, he glanced over at the herd. He easily spotted out the charcoal-scaled Night Fury, who was bathing her unhappy son.

If he cared, he would have stared longer. However, he found himself looking at the small family. Normally, a family of Night Furies consisted of the two mates and their offspring. There were some exceptions, as male Night Furies can be wary of their male offspring and did not tolerate the threat of another grown male.

_Which they do not have._ If the Wodensfang remembered correctly, he never saw the hatchling's mother with a mate. Then again, he never paid attention to the female charcoal-scaled Night Fury. But if his old memory served him right, there were two less males now compared to last season. He had suspicious that another dragon or Night Fury got the upper hand, but this unknown Night Fury may have been a weakling.

It would explain why the hatchling was a runt.

The female appeared stronger than most females he had seen. And kind, too. If the ancestors permitted her, she would have been able to handle the norm five eggs that Night Furies laid in one sitting. The Wodensfang felt guilt. How terrible it must have been for four eggs to go unhatched and one to hatch late.

So the mate was a runt, much like the hatchling.

The Wodensfang squinted his eyes. Those charcoal scales… were familiar. Like he saw the charcoal Night Fury before. But from his younger years.

He groaned and shook his head, trying to prevent his memories from resurfacing. Burnt charcoal, under his feet, stuck to his scales like the autumn leaves. It _would_ happen, he supposed, if a dragon spent most of his time sleeping in an ancient nest that was older than him. He stood up and shook his paws to disengage the charcoal, and pieces flew a few feet away.

Standing up was a challenge. He could feel his old bones shaking, weak and unable to carry his weight. His wings, on reflex, stretched as he overextended his forelegs. He had to admit, it was a struggle, but he enjoyed standing up. He needed to get to it before it came.

Slowly, he walked away from his nest and paced south of the herd. He need to move as quickly as he could, if he wanted to see it. The Night Furies paid him no mind, as darkness was soon leaving them. They hated the sunlight, after all. So the Wodensfang entered the small patch of woods behind the large herd and disappeared from their sight.

In what seemed like a day's journey, he reached the end of the island.

A small cliff extended out, hovering over the sea. The sky was beginning to change from its blackened aura of night, and breaking into day's oranges and pinks in the horizon. The cliff faced the colours and the sun was beginning to peak over the old dragon. The vast ocean below crashed against the slopes of the island, and birds fought over their meals.

He walked slowly to the end of the cliff and sat down. The early day's breeze blew against his face, and some leaves prickled his nose. He closed his eyes. Oh, how he missed this feeling. The air on his face and the sun shining down at him with warmth. It wasn't flying, but it was pretty close.

He exhaled happily, and beamed his toothless grin. "If only you were here, Hiccup."

* * *

_Crap, this chapter was only meant to be 2,000 words! But I really wanted to explore present day Wodensfang and the concept of death for dragons._

_Thanks for the reviews, follows and favourites, guys :). If you have any questions, I will gladly answer them._

_See you soon! :)_


	4. Protector

_Memories_

_Chapter 4: Protector_

"_Son, you need to stop squirming._"

The runt sighed as his mother cleaned behind his ears. Which seemed like the umpteenth time today. And for his entire life, as it seemed. It was constantly _lick-lick-lick_, three times a day. In the morning. At night. During feeding time. It was _never_-ending!

_Ancestors, make it stop!_ "_Mama, I hate baths. I no dirty_." How could he, when he was _bathed_ constantly? It wasn't like he was _playing_ in dirt. He hadn't played with the other Night Fury hatchlings in _days_. The only time he left his mother was when he went to go see the Wodensfang.

His mother growled. "_You have other scents on you_," she insisted. The runt did not know exactly, but he may have sensed a bit of resentment in her growls. "_And I need to make sure you keep my scent on you._"

The runt sighed again. Why his mother was so protective, he did not know. And it wasn't like he had gotten fish or other dragons' scents on him. She made sure to clean him after he ate or played. So where did he get these _new_ scents?

"_The Wodensfang?_" he guessed.

His mother did not answer, but she continued to clean his neck. He could hear her purring against each stroke and annoying saliva coating his dark black scales. As she cleaned him, it occurred to the runt that he had not spoken with her in what seemed like a long time. It made sense why she was so protective now: her only hatchling was spending time with an older Night Fury whom was known for attacking young ones.

_Speaking of the older Night Fury..._

The runt glanced over at the west end of the herd. Looking passed the Night Furies that were lying down, and some being picked on by small Night Furies. To where he had been looking at for days now: the Wodensfang's dusty old nest.

However, there was no Night Fury.

Where could he have gone? He never left his nest, and the runt was sure of that.

It wasn't really the best time to see where the old Night Fury had gone. The sun was starting to return, and it meant sleep for the young runt. Which was too bad; he wanted to find out where the old dragon had disappeared to. It wasn't like the elder could go anywhere far. The runt rubbed his nose. Did the old Night Fury even _walk_?

So the hatchling faked a yawn. "_Sleep now?"_ he asked. He tried to scruff his purrs, to make himself sound more tired.

His mother nodded, and released a yawn herself. The runt could even see her teeth retract in reflex. "_I think sleep would be good right about now._"

The runt nodded and snuggled closer to his mother. She immediately wrapped her tail around her son and lower her wings around both of them. The runt knew this was the sign of a parent: they would use their entire body to protect their hatchling, in case of danger. He made a rumble escape his mouth. It was also a bonding ritual between parent and child.

In no time did his mother fall asleep. One of the upsides to having a protective mother was that she fell asleep quickly, due to the constant worry of something happening. The runt could not help but feel proud of this trickery. He wiggled himself out of the tight cocoon and crawled out of her tightened wings.

He looked in a glance to try to find the old Night Fury. It should not have been hard; he possessed the only bluish-black scales in the herd. The other dragons had variants of blackened green, purple and grey but there were no blue-scaled, anywhere (at least from what the runt noticed in his short life).

_Hmm… where is he?_

He then remembered something his mother taught him not too long ago. The runt then trotted over to the old dragon's nest and started to sniff the charcoal. He stood out his tongue in disgust. It was really gross; like rotten fish and a build-up of dirt. _How can someone sleep in such filth? _

He lifted his nose in the air and took a sniff. _Oh! There it is! The rotten smell!_

The stenches seemed to lead him away from the herd. It continued to the small forest that no Night Fury had been seen entering it. The runt gulped. He heard of stories worse than the Wodensfang, which contained to the forest. Ones of treacherous dragons waiting to pounce on curious hatchlings.

The runt breathed in heavily. If he was brave enough to speak to the Wodensfang, he was brave enough to enter the forest.

He inched into the woods, which turned out to be not as terrible as his little mind made it out to be. Sure, the leaves that shook with the wind and made a crackling noise and the fallen ones that crunched under his feet spooked him out. Not to mention the birds and Terrible Terrors that stared at him from the branches above him. Or that the light was coming back and he particularly did not like the light.

Soon, he walked out of the forest. He nodded his head and held it up proudly. As he held his head up, he saw something sitting at the end of the island. Its back was facing the runt, but it was looking out at the vast clouds and ocean. The runt recognized the figure immediately.

He slowly proceeded to the end of the cliff. He sat down beside the old dragon, with his little legs sticking under his body. He watched the way the old dragon fixated outward to... whatever he was looking at.

"_Whatcha looking at?_" he asked, abruptly.

The old dragon did not flinch, in the runt's surprise. Did he know the runt had joined him?

"_The sunrise_," the Wodensfang said.

The runt tilted his head in confusion. "_Why?_"

"_It's not like the sunset_," the elder said. "_Different colours._"

The runt looked back at the rising sun. From the herd, he could have never had seen such colours that entangled together in the sky. He missed out so much. It was no wonder the Wodensfang loved to witness these colours. They were amazing.

The small hatchling looked back up at the old dragon. The way the old dragon was staring up at the piercing sky, it seemed as though he was thinking of something. It was almost of a lonely look, longing for a companion.

"_You have friend?_" the runt asked.

The Wodensfang stayed quiet for a moment. "_I did, a long time ago._"

The way he hesitated made the runt wonder if the old dragon missed his friend. "_Oh... is he with an...an...ses...tors?_" he asked, remembering what him mother told him about old dragons.

The older dragon sighed. "_Yes. He is long gone._"

"_And you have no friend now?_" the runt asked.

The old dragon growled. "_Not in a long time._"

The runt sat closer to him. The Wodensfang must have _really_ missed his friend if he did not want anyone to be around little hathclings. But how must he had felt, to have such a friend that he would be sad for the rest of his life. The runt did not understand. He never had a friend before. He was always with his mother.

The runt rubbed his head against the Wodensfang with caution. He knew, in the past, that this would have resulted the runt being ignored or the older dragon trying to shoo him away. However, the Wodensfang did not flinch. With this confirmation, the runt could not help but snuggle closer to him as he started to fall asleep.

"_I be your friend," _the hatchling cooed, with a little yawn.

* * *

_...Many years ago…_

"No. Again."

The small human rolled his eyes in annoyance at the dragon. He extended out his mouth and tried to mimic the movements the dragon told him. "_F...fists..._"

The dragon shook his head. They have been at this for almost a day now, and the boy could not even hiss the word _fish_. How hard could the word fish be? Fish was _his_ first word, when he was a small hatchling, and he hissed it before his brothers and sisters at seven sunsets old.

"Too much... hiss," the dragon said. "Need…more growl." As he spoke Norse, the dragon realized how much his voice had sounded like the accent of the boy's, like it was rough with some slurs wrapped in it.

Hiccup sighed. "I'll never get it."

"Practice," the Dragon said. "I had practice...right?"

Hiccup grabbed a fish out of his little bag and allowed it to roast over the fire pit he had made. "Yea, but _you_ learned it within a weak. It's been almost two weeks and I haven't even learned a full _sentence_ in your tongue!" He thrust the fish in a circular motion, but the dragon could tell that the little human was upset.

The dragon sighed as he sat beside his small friend. It was not that the fish drew him closer to Hiccup (although he loved the tasty smell of the salty salmon), he was genuinely concerned for the boy. And he also enjoyed the closeness with the boy, but he would never admit that. He curled up behind the boy as to allow him to rest against his scales.

Without hesitation, the boy leaned back against the dragon's stomach.

Their meetings had been going on for many days, if the dragon was not mistaken. Hiccup had told him that they had met up for three weeks (which the dragon learned were a combination of seven days). The way the human creatures told time was fascinating to the dragon and he inquired more of this strange species.

Hiccup grabbed the fish and started to chew on it, but with less eager than usual. "I'm hopeless," he muttered.

The dragon shook his head. "No. You are smart. You better than any human." He stretched his mouth in the strange gesture he had learned from Hiccup. "Smart human. No human can speak dragon tongue."

"You're just saying that," Hiccup said, glumly. "I am the only human that has even seen a dragon."

Yes, that was true. He had never seen a human before, as the small human called Hiccup was the only known human to have met a dragon. The dragon growled in a huffed mattered. He remembered how confused he was when Hiccup had told him that he was, in fact, a _human_ and not a _Hiccup_. The title _Hiccup_ was merely a name he had received.

_Which reminds me..._ "Why are you Hiccup?" the dragon asked.

Hiccup gestured to all of himself. "Hiccup is a name given to runts."

The dragon nodded. This word.. _runt_.. it meant something like a late hatcher. But for humans, a runt was a hatchling who was born early. Which made no sense to the dragon: if a hatchling hatched before the others, it was bigger than the others. However, there were the odd times that the males were smaller in comparison to other alpha males. Luckily for the dragon, he was considered a strong mate. "We have no title for runts. They are runts."

Hiccup ate a piece of fish and gave the rest to the dragon. "What is your name, by the way?" he asked.

The dragon slurped on the unfinished fish and chugged it down. "I have no name."

Hiccup tilted his head in confusion. "Why not?" he asked.

The dragon sighed. He had never met a more inquisitive creature. Always being asked questions of how he did things. It wasn't like he did _not_ know, but he never had to think of his traits or why he did not have a name. However, he truly did not really know the answer. As far as he was concerned, a dragon could tell who they were by the low or high trills that their mothers associated it with them.

"Not needed," the dragon figured.

Hiccup stared at the roasting fish. "But what do you call yourselves?" he asked.

The dragon had to admit, he was stumped. No one ever asked him what his species was. No one really had to. He spent most of his life with others of his kind that he automatically knew what they were referred as. That is, until he left at the age of fifteen and lived under the control of the Queen, when the other dragons asked him what his species was.

But he never had to recall it in the Norse tongue. "We call ourselves Night Furies."

Hiccup grinned, "That's so cool! So that's like what type of dragon you are?"

"As long as I have known," the dragon said.

Hiccup smiled again. The dragon could not help but smile his toothless grin back at the boy. The boy went back to roasting his fish and silence swept over them.

The weather was quite nice. The light summer air blew against the two friends' faces and the sun shined down through the think trees. Besides the smell of raw fish and

There were the odd birds chirping in the late afternoon

"So, I can't just call you Dragon, you know," Hiccup explained. "Unless I call you Night Fury."

Being address as his species… it sounded a little odd. It would like addressing Hiccup as Human or Viking. However, he agreed that being addressed as Dragon had sounded strange as well. "I no need name," he insisted, "but I will have Norse name."

"Hmm... what about... Fang?" Hiccup offered.

The dragon made a whooping noise, like the laugh that Hiccup was fond of using. "Uh, no."

His side remark caused Hiccup to chuckle softly, "At least it's something related to your retractable teeth." He stayed silent for a moment, which allowed the dragon to sneak another fish from the bag. "You know, there's god named Woden."

"Woden?" the dragon asked. "What is a god?"

"Well, Woden is sort of like Odin, who's one of our gods," Hiccup explained. "Gods are these… deities who rule Asgard and protect us from frost giants."

The dragon tilted his head. Frost giants and this Asgard place. "And what of this Woden?"

"He's like a protector," Hiccup assumed. "Since Odin is like our protector here, then Woden is a protector as well."

The dragon did not say it aloud, but he quite liked being referred to as a protector. It made him feel important, like he was the guardian of a soul. _Or a small human_. "I like Woden and Fang."

"You can have both, if you want," Hiccup said.

Two names sounded alright, the dragon reasoned. "Like… Fang-Woden?"

"Or Woden-Fang?" Hiccup asked. He then snapped his fingers together. "How about Woden's Fang?"

The name sounded really strange. Why would a proclaimed god have a fang... whatever a fang was? It sounded like an animal that was owned by a god. Or that the Fang part was an extension of the god's wrath.

"Wodensfang..." The dragon tried. "Hmmm, I like it."

Hiccup smiled again. "_It…suit… you…Wodensfang_."

The dragon could not help but agree with a low gurgle in his throat, and nuzzled the small human. The human patted him in return.

* * *

The Wodensfang sighed as the memory replayed in his mind. At least this memory was a happy one. It was when he became one of the strangest dragons in the history of dragons by receiving a name. And a human name, for that matter.

_If only you were here, Hiccup_, he thought.

The hatchling had a point: the old dragon had no friends. His only friend was a small-born human that could barely lift a hammer. Or could hardly protect himself from danger. But the Wodensfang enjoyed the boy's company. He was the only Viking who was worth talking to.

I be your friend, the hatchling had declared.

The Wodensfang looked down at the sleeping hatchling. This hatchling _was_ a strange one. He did not listen to the wisdom of his mother or understand how strange it was for a young hatchling to spend time with an old dragon. He liked to poke and jump around the old dragon and wanted to hear about his fried.

_Strange like Hiccup was._

The Wodensfang sighed again. Would the constant reminder of the human ever go away? The small human whom he would, without a doubt, call his friend. But was he destined to relive the mistakes he lived, and for the rest of his life? He did not need the sad memories to hit across his old chest, as it did when he lived through the painful experience. And why was he only thinking of the memories now?

The hatchling yawned quietly and snuggled closer to the Wodensfang, and stretched his little legs out. He rubbed his head against the dragon's front paw in his sleep and laid on his back.

He could not help but smiled. It was sort of adorable, to watch the little hatchling sleep in such a peaceful way. The Wodensfang could not recall when a hatchling ever appeared as cute as this little guy was.

_Oh, Gods. Am I growing soft?_

The Wodensfang rolled his eyes in annoyance. The _last_ thing he needed was a bunch of young hatchlings to come over to him and trample over his nest. The very thought of it caused his stomach to turn in disgust. If he was seen showing affection to this hatchling, he would never have his peace and quiet back.

He stopped. But maybe it was not _that_ bad. This little runt was not too hyper, and he seemed interested in the older dragon's company. Maybe it would be alright to take the runt's offer and be friends with him. _I am a little out of practice_. He did not know how to show the affection of a friend, or how to show friendship. It _had_ been a long time since he had a friend.

The little hatchling snored quietly against the older dragon's foot. The Wodensfang formed a quick idea in his mind. Gently, he picked the small hatchling up with his mouth. He tried to remember how hatchlings were carried, and did his best to position him so he was not in pain.

He returned to the herd and noticed that everyone had fallen asleep. He searched through them, trying to find the distinctive Night Fury with charcoal scales. It was not hard: she stood out against the other paler-looking dragons. Her wings were still wrapped around her body, as though her son was still there.

_So he sneaked out_, the Wodensfang mused. He maneuvered passed the sleeping dragons and stopped at the charcoal Night Fury. Steadily, he lowered the sleeping hatchling and positioned him between her wings. The way she slept with her son reminded the old dragon of his old life, when his own mother would cover him protectively. He nodded in approval and descended back to his old nest.

"_Thank you_," a growl whispered.

He looked back and noticed vagrant blue eyes looking back at him. If he were more cautious, he would have noticed that she was snaring her teeth. However, they immediately retracted and only showed gums to the old dragon. Her scales twinge at his sight and she wrapped her wings around her son.

The old dragon bowed his head slightly and let the mother and son rest.


	5. Something New

_Memories_

_Chapter 5: Something New_

A disturbing wind caused the female Night Fury to wake up. She raised her head up, trying to listen to the sudden changes. Night Furies were excellent hearing, and they could hear from miles away. She could sense that something was watching them, but she could not be sure.

Luckily, the rest of the herd was waking up. Some of the other females had already awoken to fetch the herd their meal, leaving their mates with the young.

The female sighed as she watched the males interact with their offspring. Oh, if _he_ was only here.

Before her son hatched, there was an attack on the herd by a group of Vikings. The herd had merely passed through their village and were immediately attacked. Her mate was much smaller than the rest of the males his age, but he stayed protective of her and it caused him his life.

Since then, she could not find another mate. And she did not want to. The male of dark black scales and deep blue eyes, whom her son inherited his scales from, was a mate she could not replace. Yet, she could not help but relent that her son did not have a male to observe and learn from.

That is, until the Wodensfang came in.

As long as she could remember, the ancient dragon never associated himself with the rest of the herd. The other dragons suspected he was in some sort of lonely state, but they were not even sure. Most of their kind, who were living alone with no contact with the rest of the herd, soon died.

But not the Wodensfang; he was abnormally the oldest Night Fury the herd had ever heard of. And his lonely life did not banter his health in the slightest.

The charcoal Night Fury could only growl in annoyance. Her son was too young to expose himself to other adults. He should have been with her, where she knew he was safe, or with other hatchlings and socialize. He should not be with an old dragon who was could kill hatchlings. Her own brother still had his ugly scars that he received from the Wodensfang from when they were little.

But the Wodensfang had not harmed her son yet.

She was shocked, if not astound, that the old dragon allowed her precious son to poke at him constantly. On top of that, he even allowed her offspring to _talk_ with him. If, and she admitted this, a small hatchling could convince an old elder to be friendly, there must have been something about her son that was special.

Her son purred against her foreleg and stretched his little wings. She was quite convinced that he was feeling happier. He had been spending a lot of time with the Wodensfang lately. It was though she had not seen him in days.

As gently as she could, she moved her son off her foreleg and stood up. Her longer legs permitted her to easily navigate through the herd of sleeping Night Furies, although she found herself knocking into a few just the same.

She graced to the secluded Night Fury, who was snoring lightly against the soft wind. With some fear rushing through her, she tapped the elder's paw with her own.

His dim grey eyes opened slowly. At first glance he showed tiredness, but then his eyes narrowed in curiosity, and he raised his head up.

_Well, here it goes…._ She breathed in gently. "_I'm sorry_," she growled softly.

"_Sorry?"_ he repeated. There was confusion in his voice. Which was surprisingly soft and gentle, and not rough as older males were. "_You haven't done anything…"_

"_For my behaviour. I should have not been so hostile_," the charcoal dragon continued. When he did not answer, she added: "_My son likes you. He really does_." She dropped her gaze in embarrassment. "_I don't want him getting hurt_."

The elder tilted his head for a moment. Once his eyes darted away, he nodded in agreement. "_I understand_."

Seeing the confusion and slight disappointment in his eyes caused the female to nod back, but not being able to stare down the older Night Fury. So she merely turned away and dropped the stare, leaving the old Night Fury alone. Her new attention went back to her son, where she joined him and swiftly laid back to sleep.

She allowed sleep to consume her, forgetting (for the time being) of her confrontation with the Wodensfang.

* * *

_...Many years ago..._

The dragon sniffed the autumn air. He loved the way the trees gave off the cold scent, and the promise that life will continue in another form. Yes, summer was his favourite season, but autumn held a special place in his heart.

"Wodensfang!"

He lifted his head and smiled his toothless grin at the sight before him. "Hiccup!" he called out.

The scrawny boy whom he had known for six winters was no longer small. Now, a strong and tall man took his place. Complete with the confidence of a Viking and the strength of a dragon. His helmet and attire were bigger, now to fit his towering stature.

Wodensfang had to admit: the appearance did not change the fact that Hiccup was still his best friend. It took every ounce of the dragon's being to not run up to the man. However, he did walk up and nuzzle his only human friend.

Hiccup chuckled. "What's the matter? You act like I've been gone for years."

"It feels like it's been years," Wodensfang admitted. But he felt something else about his friend. Something... different. "Hiccup... you are scared..."

"It's our island... we are losing supplies and food. We need a new home," Hiccup explained.

"How? What happened?" Wodensfang's attention was caught.

"The Roman Empire. They came in and demanded we surrender to the rule of Caesar. When we refused, the soldiers came in and attacked us. They took our food... our swords... many of our lives..." He sighed. "My father fought bravely, but he was killed."

The dragon was silent. He could tell how much Hiccup must have been hurting. Too loose so much of his life... it must have been terrible.

"I wish I can help you," Wodensfang admitted. And he meant it. If there was some way he could help his best friend… he would. He would go to great lengths to help his friend.

Unless…

There was a legend he had heard of. One from many years ago, passed from the dragon tongue of many generations. It had been spun to many stories, and he was certain it was close to this island.

Yes... he remembered...

The Queen had ordered him to hunt for a special artifact… one that taught the dragons how to hunt and kill. Why she needed it... Wodensfang was not sure of it at the time. But now… it may be real.

"Jump on my back," Wodensfang insisted, "We need to go somewhere."

The boy hesitated, but the dragon grabbed him and thrust him on his back. It had not been the first time the boy had ridden on his back; they had flown before during a sunny day and the wind blew against their faces. Needless to say, Hiccup enjoyed the flying. His little whoops and cheers were evident enough.

And Wodensfang, secretly, loved the company.

The flight was amazing. To feel the wind against his face and on his wings... it was the personification of freedom. He never had worries when flying. And to experience it with his best friend made it more special.

Shorty, after gliding over across the blue ocean, they stopped on a small isle. Much smaller than Wodensfang's home. It stood tallest of the many of thousands of isles. In the middle of the isle stood a tall cave entry.

Wodensfang landed, and allowed Hiccup to jump off.

"Where are we, exactly?" Hiccup asked.

The dragon merely headed inside the cave. He could hear Hiccup follow closely behind.

Right in the middle of the cave stood a ruby stone on a pedestal. The stone glowed in the dark cave and gleamed a bright light from its core.

Hiccup gasped. "What's this?"

"The Jewel," Wodensfang said. "The last bit of magic in the world."

"Last bit of magic?" Hiccup repeated. "You mean there was _more_ magic on Midgard?"

"In a way… but I was uncertain of its existence for a long time," Wodensfang admitted. "I might have not believed it if I had not searched for it years ago."

Hiccup's gaze kept going back to the stone. "You _knew_ about this?"

"My Queen wanted to use the stone for some reason. However, I cannot give it to her. It will make her weak with power." He stayed quiet. "That's what the elders always said…"

Hiccup's gaze on the Jewel was deep, as though he was in a trance. The dragon squinted his eyes as Hiccup stepped closer to it. The boy's hand reaching out to it. "It must be powerful…" he whispered.

Wodensfang stopped the small human from approaching any closer. "No, Hiccup! You will be corrupted by it."

Hiccup shook his head. "Wh…what happened?"

Wodensfang glanced at the burning light radiating from the stone. "The elders in my herd told stories about it. The stone corrupts the most vulnerable soul. If what you say is true about human greed, then the stone corrupts humans." He walked to the Jewel and grabbed it off the pedestal. "You must use it only for good. Good intentions will cause you to be good, but evil thoughts will destroy you."

Hiccup rubbed his head with his right hand. He slowly nodded. "Alright."

Wodensfang smiled. "Good." Somehow, he felt that Hiccup wanted the stone, as though he was being controlled by the stone to corrupt him. "If I may ask… what made you want to touch the stone?"

Hiccup shrugged. "I… All I could think of was how terrible my home is. It's being… plagued. We are dying, and…" He sat down.

The dragon could see the sadness in his friend's face. "What is it, Hiccup?" the Wodensfang asked.

"I just want to prove I'm a more than just a hiccup." He tried not to look at the glowing ruby. "If I could… use it somehow, I can help them. My village. My mother. My brother…"

Wodensfang sighed. He did not understand the extent of his friend's troubles, but he knew how hard it was to help loved ones and be completely vulnerable about it.

Wodensfang thought for a minute. "The land. The one we met at. You can live there. Bring your village there."

"But… you live here..." Hiccup insisted. He immediately stood up and waved his hands in protest. "No. That is your sanctuary. You deserve that home."

Wodensfang shook his head. "Hiccup... there is no reason I should keep an entire island to myself. Besides, I have been missing my herd. It would give me a good reason to see them again."

Part of his words were a lie. As much as he did miss his herd (gods, how long had it been since he had seen his mother?), he could not deny that he would not miss Hiccup. A part of him wanted to stay, but he feared that the Vikings would not take kindly to a

The boy glanced back at the stone. Its ruby glow burned in the dimmed light. He looked back at Wodensfang. "Only if you insist…"

Wodensfang allowed himself to purr, something he had not done in years due to the seclusion from other dragons for years. "Please. I do not want your village to die."

Hiccup smiled and hugged the dragon.

Wodensfang was not used to this gesture. It was very human, he would admit. And warm. It was kind of nice.

* * *

"_Hiya, Woddie!_" a little growl cooed from beside him.

The Wodensfang rolled his eyes as the runt jumped on his back. "_Please do not call me that_," he groaned. He was waking up from a good memory… and he desperately did not want to leave it. For the first time in a while.

The runt patted the elder's head with its paw. "_Okay, Grumpy._"

The elder glanced up at the little runt on his head and laughed mischievously. If the runt wanted to play so badly...

"_I'll show you Grumpy…_" the Wodensfang playfully roared and jumped to his feet, twirling around in a circle.

He grabbed the runt with his gums and lifted him a couple of feet from the ground, then caused him to land on his back. Laughter escaped from the two Night Furies, and the little hatchling. They did not care about how strange they looked, or that the other night furies ignored them. They were happy playing, and that was alright.

However, their fun was soon over.

The Wodensfang stopped his playing and sniffed the air.

Something was not right.

An unsettling feeling took over his senses, and he could only think of one thing. A new scent that was not common to the likes of Night Furies. In fact, it was a scent he had not caught in a long time. A living creature, no doubt. He could practically hear the new creature breathing in sync to his quickened heartbeat.

And it was no friend.

"_Woddie…. You okay?_" the little hatchling asked.

The elder dragon almost did not hear the runt speaking to him. It was distant, compared to what he smelt. It _was_ a familiar smell… one that promised danger in the little haven of the Night Furies.

A sudden crack of a twig escaped the woods behind him.

"_Hide!_" he roared.

The runt jumped away as a screech echoed throughout the herd. The Wodensfang turned around and found himself tackled under a dragon. It sneered in the elder's face, and pinned the Wodensfang against the ground. The elder was stuck under the intruding dragon.

But it was not a Night Fury. It was something very different.

_A Whispering Death._

Its many rows of teeth, sharper than any teeth seen on a Night Fury, seemed to encircle its owner's mouth. Its tail swirled and was starting to cut at the Wodensfang's tail.

The old dragon roared in pain. He had not fought in a number of years, and he was afraid that his reflexes were not as they used to be. He tried to swat back, but the nemesis anticipated his attack and tried to bite his paw off.

It was out of nowhere did a blur of charcoal come out. The blur pushed against the Whispering Death, freeing the Wodensfang from his entrapment.

The Wodensfang stood up and watched the stand-off ensue. He recognized the dark blue scales of the Whispering Death, its tail encircling the air and ready to pounce. It growled at its new target: a Night Fury with charcoal scales and deep blue eyes.

_The runt's mother..._the Wodensfang realized.

The charcoal Night Fury retracted her teeth and snarled at her new nemesis. There was hatred and bravery in her eyes, a look not unknown to the Night Furies. If the Wodensfang was certain of one thing, it was that no one should cross a mother.

Two fearsome creatures locked eyes and chose their next attack. The Whispering Death charged forward while the Night Fury skidded under her opponent's weight. She hissed before she attacked the Whispering Death. Retracted teeth met flesh and blood started to spur from its source. It weakened the new villain's tactics, causing it to fall to the ground. The Night Fury stood back up and backed away to the Wodensfang, releasing a warning roar at her new nemesis.

The Whispering Death shook his head and backed away from the warning. He growled in defeat and flew away from her.

Once he was out of sight, the charcoal Night Fury huffed in confidence. She glanced back at the elder Night Fury with a questioning look.

"_Are you alright?_" she asked.

The Wodensfang found his mouth hanging down. The fierce tactics he had seen on this young Night Fury... it was familiar. And very courageous. He had not seen such bravery since his own youth, and witnessing the runt's mother in action was a great impact.

"_Yes..._" he finally answered.

The runt crawled from the Wodensfang's feet and ran over to his mother. "_Wow! You were so cool! You totally beat him!_" he cheered, and nuzzled his mother with affection. The female could not help but nuzzle her son back.

Something in the old dragon's heart turned. Like he was missing out on a grand moment in his life. The way the female looked at her son... her eyes were filled with love and pride. He remembered the same look that his own mother displayed in his youth. It was all too familiar.

It made him wonder what else he was missing out on.

* * *

_You can shoot me now for not updating in over a month XD. I have been focused on school and "For the Living", which takes up most of my time much as I love this story... I am just not as into this as I thought I would. But I told myself I would finish this story and that is what I plan to do. _

_I honestly love your feedback, guys. All the good, the bad and the ugly. And I will accept constructive criticism. And the number of followers and favorites I have received from the last chapter is phenomenal. So thanks for that :)_


	6. Trust

_Memories_

_Chapter 6: Trust  
_

There was some unease from the Night Fury herd. Ever since the mysterious Whispering Death attacked the herd, there had been extra precaution within the herd. The mothers were more protective of their young, and they hardly allowed their offspring to go near any older male. As for the males, they have displayed greater bravery and honor.

The Wodensfang found himself closer to the herd.

He had walked over to the herd, no longer at the smelly old nest that he always slept in. He was the closest to where the Whispering Death had attacked, and he did not want to get attacked again like back in from a few days ago.

It seemed that no one would want to interact with him. The females growled warnings to him as he passed them. Their teeth were retracted and their eyes were full of protectiveness. The hatchlings merely looked up at the Wodensfang with curiosity, wondering why the most mysterious dragon was walking about the herd.

He sniffed his way through the crowd and found his destination: the runt.

The little runt was pawing his sleeping mother, using his front paws to poke at her head. The Wodensfang found some humour in the runt's pressing on his mother. Was this how he spent his time, when he was not with the Wodensfang?

How it must feel to not have siblings.

The Wodensfang did not know how that felt. He grew up with many siblings, including younger ones from later litters. It was not like how he was with Hiccup, but it was not how he expected to feel, either. Hiccup was his _brother_... if it were possible.

He sighed, trying to hide any memories from resurfacing. A growl escaped his mouth, as he thought of his last visit with his so-called brother. _The pain... the anger_-

The runt snapped his head up, then panted happily at the sight of the old dragon. "_Woddie! Woddie! You're up!_" he screeched, and ran to jump on the old dragon's back.

"_Despite my better judgement, I am_," the Wodensfang admitted, as he crouched down on the ground. Damn, that was a bad idea. He could hear his bones crack from the pressure.

The little Night Fury nuzzled his head against the old dragon. Although the Wodensfang didn't show it, he secretly liked the acknowledgement from the runt. It made him feel… accepted. A feeling he had not felt since his time with his Hiccup.

"_Woddie… you fly?_" the runt asked.

The Wodensfang sighed. Fly… he had not flown in a long time. It seems he had not done much in a long time, did he? He had not interacted with the herd in many years, nor did he enjoy anything fun in the same amount of time. Was he bounded by this constant void of emptiness, never to truly relive the emotions he spent over a lifetime of hiding?

"_It has been a long time, little one_," the Wodensfang admitted. "_I am not sure if my old wings could work._"

The runt nodded, but his pupils thickened and he bowed his head down. "_Oh…_" he muttered.

The Wodensfang noted the sad tone in the youngster's growl. "_What is it, little one?_" he asked.

"_I… I was wondering if you could teach me how to fly_," the runt admitted.

A strange request, the old dragon admitted. And stranger that the little hatchling did _not_ know how to fly. Then again, the hatchling did not look older than three weeks old. Most hatchlings learned within a week's time after hatching. "_Could you not ask your mother to teach you?_"

"_You know more about flying_," the hatchling insisted. "_And probably a better teacher…_"

"_Mothers are great teachers_," the Wodensfang countered. "_Why, my mother taught all of my brothers and sisters how to fly, including myself._"

The runt turned his head and gazed at his own mother. "_Did your Momma clean you, everyday?_"

Memories of the many tough-baths resurfaced from the Wodensfang's mind. A small smile crossed his wrinkled mouth. "_More than I can count._"

A growl escaped from the sleeping dragon.

The Wodensfang backed away slightly. His old bones permitted himself from escaping the warning sounds from the hatchling's mother. He could only stare at the bright blue eyes that sent terror to his thoughts.

However, her eyes dilated as quickly as they thinned.

"_Oh… you joined us?_" she asked.

"_If you do not mind_," the Wodensfang said. "_I am worried about the Whispering Deaths returning… and here at least I would not alert any more of them._"

The charcoal Night Fury glanced back at the woods, where the old dragon's nest still stood. "_That beast would be too stupid to return, not after the scar I gave it._"

A thought crossed the old dragon's mind. "_That… and I wanted to thank you… for saving my life._"

There was a softened look in the female's eyes. "_You would have done the same for my son._" She looked down at her hatchling, who had taken interest at playing with his tail. "_As any father would._"

Mentioning the topic of fathers reminded the Wodensfang of an issue he wanted to discuss with the little one's mother. "_If I may ask…_" the Wodensfang began, not sure how she would react, "_what happened to his father?_" He gestured his head to her son.

She did not answer at first, which made the Wodensfang moan sadly.

"_You don't have to answer, if it is too painful…_" he offered.

"_No, it's quite alright_," the mother chuckled. "_It was last spring. My mate and I were venturing off by a village of Vikings. We tried to hunt for food, but the herd and we had gotten caught and alerted the village. He… he was brave, despite his small size. He told me to fly away but I wanted to protect him. All I could do was watch as he… was pierced by a bow and fell in the sea._"

The Wodensfang looked down at the ground. He had almost forgotten how terrible humans could be. He knew, of course. However, it had been years since he had seen a human. It was a shame they had not changed in the two hundred winters passing since he saw his Hiccup.

"_I guess that's why I don't want my son getting hurt-_"

"_Because of what I used to do with hatchlings_," the Wodensfang finished.

When the mother's eyes widened in surprise, the old dragon sighed. "_I know what I did in the past was unacceptable. And I hurt a lot of hatchlings. But when…. When I saw your son… I couldn't hurt him._" He tried to fight the choke caught in his throat. "_He reminded me of an old friend._"

The mother released a sad moan. "You lost your friend, didn't you?"

"_He is long gone_," the Wodensfang admitted.

"_You don't have to tell_," the mother insisted.

The old dragon looked down at his paws. Was he ready to open up and tell this female about his past? She seemed so open to tell him about her deceased mate. She obviously trusted him.

"_Perhaps another time_," the old dragon decided. Then, motioned his head to the runt. "_Your son says he wants to learn how to fly._"

"_Oh, he does?_" the mother cooed. "_He never told me of that._"

"_It might had slipped his mind_," he reasoned.

"_He needs a father. I try my best to teach him how to defend himself, but I always feel it is never enough. He needs a male who will guide him and teach him how to fish and fly._"

The Wodensfang looked back at the runt, who suddenly fell asleep near his mother's tail. "_I... could always teach him how to fly._"

"Y_ou would?_" the mother asked, surprised.

He nodded. "_It would give me a reason to stretch out these old wings." _Come to think of it._... _It must have been a long time since he flew. Before, when he had a reason to leave the Night Fury herd.

The mother purred. "_Well, if you think you can teach him… then I don't see why not._"

A small, grateful murmur escaped the old dragon's mouth. "_I'll take good care of him. I promise._"

* * *

_….Many years ago…._

From the tall trees, the young dragon watched as many humans docked at the island. He was hidden from their prying eyes, and he could easily hear their voices from his hiding place.

There were so many humans that were boarding the island! The dragon had never seen so many humans in his young life. Well…. He only had seen one human, after all. There were mainly big oafish ones with thick hair on their chins, ranging from a bright yellow color to dark as the tree trunks. It was a lot to take in, but Wodensfang thought it was amazing to see the different types of humans.

He immediately recognized Hiccup. The young man stood with a stockier boy, much bigger than himself. The stockier boy also supported hair on his face, and it was the same shade of colour as Hiccup's hair.

Wodensfang remembered the boy as well: Mammoth.

"Hiccup, are you sure we can stay here?" Mammoth asked. "This doesn't look like much."

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "I'm telling you: it's got great vegetation and can sustain our village."

A huge man came up behind them. He shared the same shade of brown fur as Hiccup's hair, except it was growing on his face as well. "My nephew, you have saved our village! I believe we shall stay here for a long time!" he rubbed Hiccup's hair in affection.

Wodensfang assumed this man was Hiccup's relative, known as Uncle Horrendous.

Mammoth held up Hiccup's arm. "To Hiccup the Savior!"

Hiccup was suddenly crowded by the rest of the village and lifted in the air, and many of the other humans cried in unison: "Hiccup! Hiccup! Hiccup!"

Wodensfang smiled from the treetops. This young man was the making of a great leader, he had to admit. He had the qualities of man courageous and leader-like dragons, rolled up in one human. Yes. He would make a great ruler, indeed.

Not that he ever doubted his friend. He had complete faith in Hiccup. He could foretell greatness in the young man, and for generations to come.

Better than how much his Queen had displayed.

The dragon growled to himself. He had visited the Queen recently… and she was not happy. There were greater food shortages and the nest had to be moved to the Barbaric Archipelago. Wodensfang tried to disengage the Queen's plot to move, but she did not listen.

It was a good idea that she did not poses the power of the Jewel.

The dragon looked down at the stone, which hung from his neck on a rope. Hiccup had deemed it necessary that Wodensfang keep the stone on him at all times, since it did not affect him. How it did not, the dragon could not understand, but it meant he had to stay away from the Queen's nest. For the time being.

And he was grateful he did not have to go back.

It seemed as though hours passed, when the island was spread out and tents were put up for temporary houses. There were already some sheep and fish being cooked for the night, and the humans started to exhibit strange habits consisting of jumping around and belching weird words. Hiccup had told Wodensfang that it was dancing and singing, but the dragon still thought it was a strange custom.

He finally left the tree to fly back to the coven where he hid. Luckily, the humans were only covering the main island and the hill it was made of. He was not ready to expose himself to their culture yet, and it would not have been a good welcoming on their part.

"Wodensfang?" a voice called out.

The dragon jerked his head back and noticed his friend, who was holding up a flame on a stick. A torch, he was sure it was called. Not something he was fond of; the fire was made by humans and it could easily be

Despite that, the dragon grinned his toothless smile and ran up to the human.

"How is everyone enjoying their new home?" Wodensfang asked.

"They keep calling me a hero for saving them," Hiccup explained, growing a light pink colour on his cheeks. "I was not sure being a hero meant so much applause."

"It usually is," Wodensfang agreed, "but you are right: you saved your people from famine. And you should be proud."

Hiccup stomped his foot on the ground. "Why? Because a _dragon_ let me take his home? And what about that?" he pointed to the stone glowing on Wodensfang's neck. "What happens when this island can no longer sustain us? What do we do then?"

Wodensfang backed away. "Hiccup…" The boy's behaviour was odd... as it was when he first saw the Jewel.

The boy shook his head and looked back at Wodensfang in a gaze. "Oh no… did I black out again?"

He nodded. "Yea… you need to be more careful," Wodensfang warned. "The stone might take advantage of you."

The boy rubbed his eyes. "I know. I'm sorry." He looked back to the village. "I should head back." He hugged the dragon. "Thank you again for this."

Wodensfang nodded, as he felt his friend's quickened heartbeat. "Always, my friend."

* * *

"_Remember, you have to flap your wings real fast._"

The old dragon stood at the end of the cliff, where the Wodensfang liked to watch the sunset. Both he and the runt were right at the edge of the cliff, waiting for a breeze to come.

The runt panted. "_C'mon, Woddie! I can do it!_"

The old dragon chuckled. "_You have to concentrate hard. It may be difficult at first, because the wind is strong here. But at least it will start you off._"

The runt nodded and started to flap his wings. He jumped a little in the air and allowed the wind to catch him. He immediately screeched in the uncertainty of the entire ordeal.

Luckily, the old dragon was there to catch him.

The Wodensfang positioned the runt on top of his head. "_I'll fly for a bit, then you can when you are ready._" He felt the little one nod his head, although he felt him shake with fear. "_You aright, little one?_"

"_I-I-I wanna g-go home!_" the hatchling whined.

"_Alright, alright_," the Wodensfang decided. "_But don't you want to show your mother you can fly all by yourself?_"

The runt stopped shaking. He nodded his head once again and opened his wings. Before he knew it, his wings dragged him over the Wodensfang's head. Soon, both of the unlikely friends were gliding beside each other. They both screeched in the pure joy of the experience.

The air was flashing in their face, but they did not care.

"_This is so cool!_" the hatchling shouted, as he allowed his tongue to flap in the wind.

"_You're doing great!_" the Wodensfang chattered.

The hatchling released a happy roar. "_I never wanna leave the sky, Woddie! This is amazing!_"

The Wodensfang smiled. He had not done this many winters. Having fun and just flying. It was a nice change for him, to be in the presence of a new friend and relax in the skies of stars.

Wait-

_Friend?_

Did-did the old dragon _really_-?

The Wodensfang watched as the little hatchling flew happily beside him. Was the old Night Fury willing to accept this little one as his friend? He could not recall the last time he had a friend. That is, after he parted ways with Hiccup.

He smiled to himself. Yea… this little Night Fury was his friend. All the little one wanted to do was be friendly with the Wodensfang, and all he did was push him away. He could not believe he was finally warming up to the little guy.

It finally allowed him to trust his feelings.

He remembered what the little one said, merely a few days ago: _I be your friend._ Yea, it wasn't exactly the proper way of speaking, but the statement really touched his heart.

"_Little one._"

The runt looked back at the old dragon. "_What is it, Woddie?_"

The old dragon smiled. "_I be your friend, too._"

* * *

_Hey, guys! This is the actual chapter 7, as I found my USB :D_

_Thank you so much for reviewing, following and favouriting this story! It means the whole world to me :)_

_Hope this was enough feels for you ;) We'll see you next time!_


	7. Danger Returns

Warning: Blood is mentioned in this chapter.

* * *

_Memories_

_Chapter 7: Danger Returns  
_

There was an unease feel in the air. However, not all of the Night Furies noticed it. It was thought it was a silent awakening for only a select few. The wind merely blew against the Night Furies as the cool evening began to pass over.

The charcoal Night Fury looked down at her nest. _Strange_. It was almost daylight, but her son was not back yet with the Wodensfang. She looked around her. _Where were they?_

"_Have you seen my son?_" she asked a dark forest green Night Fury. Her eyes were a piercing yellow.

The Night Fury with forest green scales shook her head. "_Haven't seen him since he went with the…_" she growled menacingly. "_-the Wodensfang…_"

She sniffed. "_And where did they go to?_" she asked, ignoring the female's comment.

The yellow-eyed female turned her direction to the thick trees to her north. "_In the forest, I believe,_" she grunted. "_I don't understand how you can allow your only cub to wander with such a revolting creature. Do you not remember what he did to your brother?_"

The charcoal Night Fury sneered. "_My business with the Wodensfang is between him and me._"

"_He almost killed your brother!"_ the female snarled. "_If you haven't realized it yet, but he will die and the herd would be better off!_"

Fury built up in the charcoal dragon, hotter than any plasma blast that she could build up. And she was close to unleashing it on the ignorant Night Fury. Oh, did she ever want to attack her.

However, she merely snarled a menacing look and sneered her teeth. Her son would not have amounted well to watching his mother attack a fellow Night Fury, despite his present absence. Instead, she stood up and brushed passed the yellow-eyed female.

"_Oh. And thank you for your co-operation_," she hissed.

Heading for the woods, and ignoring the grumbles of the other female, she trotted through the woods with confidence. However, she did feel uneasy. It was still dark in the woods, and she counted on her scales to protect her, but the sky was lighting up. Her scales could only go so far to camouflage her.

Her son could not had gone far with the Wodensfang, could he? And it had only been a few hours. They might only had gone not much farther than the woods.

However, there was a disturbing chill down her spine. The same feeling she got when danger was near, where her ears ruffled in the wind and picked up the sound of a beating heart from a distance.

She felt like she was being watched.

Her senses came on full alert. She listened to the softest sound and saw through the leaves in the trees. Her nose picked up the many scents that caught in the forest, all familiar from the pines to the wet grass. Her feet grazed the prickling grass, cushioning the ground under her weight.

A stroke of a tree branch alerted her killing senses immediately, and she pounced at the mysterious creature.

"_Ow! What the hell?_" it growled.

She looked down and realized who it was:

The Wodensfang.

"_I will learn to never sneak up behind you…_" he muttered, struggling to get up. The old dragon's legs cracked a little under his slimming weight.

"_Oh…. I am so sorry. I thought you were an outsider_," she apologized, and nudged him to help him up.

He chuckled and stood up. "_No worries. I would have done the same."_

The charcoal dragon felt flattered. She never knew how friendly the Wodensfang was, due to passing winters of isolation from the herd. It made her think why the hatchlings walked up to him… they were merely curious.

Perhaps they just wanted to be friends with him. Like her son.

Her son cooed; she figured he was feeling left out. "_Woddie taught me to fly, Mom!_" he opened his wings and flapped them in emphasis.

There was a low chuckle from her mouth. "_Is that so?_"

"_Yea! Could he fly with me all the time?_" her son asked.

The charcoal dragon glanced up at the Wodensfang, his eyes grey from living many years. It may have been the unexpected fining of the two, but the mother could have sworn that she saw something in the old dragon's eyes.

"_What's wrong?_" she whispered.

The Wodensfang sniffed the air. He merely muttered a single word:

"_Danger._"

Her senses were alerted, and her thoughts went to the first thing she could think of.

"_The herd._"

She grabbed her son by his scoff and ran for the herd. Her instincts told her to go back and take her son somewhere safe, but she had to help her family.

The sight before her was shocking.

Whispering Deaths and Night Furies were at war.

This was news to her. There had never been such a scale of a fight between Whispering Deaths and Night Furies before, and especially not during the day. The slithering snake-like dragons continuously hissed at their enemies. Most of the Night Furies were in the sky and slashing at them.

"_Hide_," the charcoal dragon hissed to her son.

"_Momma, what's-_"

The Wodensfang picked up the hatchling by his scruff, and his grey eyes locked on hers. He did not need words or hisses to tell her what he was thinking: Go.

She nodded and flew in the sky.

Her thoughts were clouded, unable to be heard. She could not trust her sight in the midst of the fight, and there was no way she could tell who was winning or losing. However, her instincts unleashed the inner demon inside her.

Here, she proved the true meaning of her specie's name.

She was the Night Fury.

A Whispering Death charged at her, but she was too quick. Her claws retracted and slashed at her enemy's face. It howled in pain, and went to bite at her face. She anticipated its motives, and she pushed it away, using her tail to knock it out. It fell down from the sky, appearing to be unconscious.

The charcoal dragon huffed in victory, but it was soon short-lived. She turned her body and she saw another Whispering Death. Her instincts took over and she knocked the dragon off its flying and watched as it fell to the island.

She dived right after it and landed on her feet perfectly. She started to walk around the dragon. Waiting. Watching in stance as the Whispering Death shook itself from the fall.

It's scales were a dark blue, and a bite-mark ran down his face. It was not fresh, that was for sure It must have had been a few days old.

She knew that dragon anywhere.

The Whispering Death shook his head. His yellow eyes met her blue, narrowing in realization to his new nemesis.

"_You again…_" he hissed.

She growled, and advanced her attack.

* * *

_...Many years ago…._

"_Send me food!_" The Queen demanded. "There are a series of islands not far from here. You shall take their food and feed me!"

Wodensfang growled in protest, as he watched his fellow dragons immediately bow in fear of being turned in a meal. They obeyed the much larger dragon and flew off. They exited out of the large hole above the nest.

The Night Fury found himself following the other variety of dragons. Not out of obedience. He was lucky Night Furies were fast.

He huffed once he caught up to the middle of the swarm. _I _really_ need to get in shape… _ When was it the last time he actually sped through a swarm of dragons? "_Where are you going?_" Wodensfang demanded a Gronkle.

"_We have to obey the Queen!_" the Gronkle insisted, and his fellow Gronkles growled in agreement, and their eyes immediately slit in thin slices.

The dark-blue Night Fury was in shock. He had to stop these dragons from attacking the surrounding islands where his sanctuary once was. The Vikings called this the Barbaric Archipelago, and the island was known as Berk. Wodensfang found the names rather strange, but he had come to accept that Vikings named things like that.

Wodensfang had to warn Hiccup before the dragons attacked. But how could he? Dragons were already a few miles ahead of him! But he could not seem to get their attention, either.

Yet, the dragon knew why: the Queen had control over them. If she could not teach them to fish with the Jem's power, then this was her next motive.

He sighed. _The things I do for that human…_ He roared and flew as fast as he could passed the flying herd. Night Furies, as he knew, were the fastest known dragons and he was going to exploit this trait. He had to get to Hiccup. He just _had_ to.

By the time he arrived to the lone island, the sky was still dark. However, Wodensfang knew it was almost morning, as he started to feel a little drowsy. But this did not stop him; he pumped his wings fast and flew toward the buildings.

He had to admit, within the three years since Hiccup and his village had moved to Berk, it had already sprouted many cave-like structures (Hiccup used the term "houses" to describe them). Yet, it was not hard to pick out which one belong to the Haddocks: the building on the top hill on Berk.

Wodensfang quietly landed on the roof. He prayed to the Viking Gods that Hiccup was up, at least. With a shift of his weight, he caused the roof to shake a little.

"What was that?" a feminine voice asked.

"Oh-uh, probably just a bird," another voice replied. Wodensfang smiled to himself. _Hiccup._

A door opened with a creek, and Wodensfang watched as a young man exited out and headed for the forest. Wodensfang opened his wings and followed the man in pursuit.

"Wodensfang, what is the matter?" Hiccup asked.

The dragon shook his head. "You need to warn the village. Our Queen has ordered the herd to attack Berk and the rest of the Barbaric Archipelago!"

Hiccup gaped. "Wait, what? Why are they going to attack us?"

The dragon looked back at the sky, which was still clear for the time being. He doubted he would have much time before the herd came to Berk. "The Queen is controlling us. How, I am not sure. But she told us to bring her food to feed her."

Hiccup raised his eyebrow. "Are you serious!? They are _feeding_ her?"

"I can't explain it! She has this control over us!" Wodensfang said. "I don't know why, but she makes us do things…" He gestured to the stone that hung on his neck. "All I know is that she does not have this to control us."

Hiccup nodded. "Then use the stone to stop her."

"I_ can't_ use the stone!" Wodensfang insisted. "You know why. I don't have the will to."

Little words were passed through the human and the Night Fury about the stone. Wodensfang would have gladly given the stone to Hiccup. In a heartbeat. But Hiccup had that strange attraction to it. And it had been over three winters since.

The young man thought for a moment. "Well, we need to figure something out before the dragons attack."

The idea was not totally ludicrous, but the dragon could not think of another solution to the upcoming problem. "I will try to stall the dragons. You warn your village."

A nod of agreement came from the Viking, and he turned back to the Village. Before he left his friend, he said: "If it makes any difference, we are known as the Hairy Hooligans."

Wodensfang rolled his eyes and shoved Hiccup with his head. "Go on, you crazy Haddock." The dragon then jumped in the air and took off toward the sky.

The herd was closer than he had anticipated.

The leader was a Monstrous Nightmare, as he had come to recognize. Its scales were already aflame and he was already determined to show his leadership skills.

"_Back off!"_ Wodensfang growled.

The larger dragon shook his head. "_We must get food for the Queen!_" the Monstrous Nightmare hissed.

The other dragons behind him growled in unison.

Something within the Night Fury snapped. His instincts caused him to attack the much larger dragon and use his claws to leave a rather large gash on his opponent's side.

The Monstrous Nightmare glanced at his new scar and he showed his menacing teeth at the much smaller dragon.

Wodensfang gulped. Yet, he steadied his stance in the sky and anticipated the dragon's attack.

* * *

The hatchling watched from the distance as his mother faced the Whispering Death. He had never seen his mother so scary before. There was true anger in her eyes, something he was not used to seeing.

Yet, he wanted to help her. This was what Night Furies were meant to do, right? He spent hours playing with his fellow hatchlings so they could train for this. Yes. He_ had_ to help his mother.

He pushed his head against the Wodensfang's leg, and spread his small wings out. He made up his mind.

He was saving his mother.

Like she saved him and Woddie.

The runt pounced on the Whispering. Retracted teeth, barely sharp enough to tear through a fish, met the flesh of his mother's nemesis. He saw victory in his surprise attack, holding tight in his grip.

There was a roar from a male dragon.

His mother cried in surprise and she dove to her son. He hit his head against the hard stone, and caused his world to spin. He could not recall much. His mother's much larger body shielded him from the next attack from her nemesis.

_R-ii-ppp!_

He cried in the pain of the sound. It was not his pain, but he heard it come from his mother. It was the sound of teeth ripping through flesh. Like when his mother bit the Whispering Death.

The hatchling found teeth clinging to his wings. _No! Is it the Whispering Death?_ Not a hard clamp. Barely a tug in his wings, like Woddie clung to him. Turing his head up, he saw his friend carry him by his wings, and running rather fast.

_But why is he running? he wondered. Something in his gut told him that Woddie was running from something, obviously. _He almost did not allow himself to dart his attention to his mother. Afraid of what he might see.

But he did.

_Oh no._

His mother was fighting. She stood on her back legs and swiped the Whispering Death rather harshly with a clawed front paw. It was dripping in a type of water, and it met her nemesis' face in a vigorous motion. He barely noticed her weakening strength.

But a red substance escaped from three large wounds on her:

Her neck.

Her head.

Her tail.

Except…. There was no fins on her tail.

They were _gone_.

He wanted to scream at the sight of his mother. For her to stop fighting. _Wh-why is she still fighting?_ He struggled against the Wodensfang's grip on his wings. _No!_ He needed to see his mother.

"_Keep your head down!_" he thought he heard the Wodensfang shout. But he could not hear anything passed the pain-filled hollers of both his mother and the Whispering Death.

The last thing he saw before he blacked out was his mother falling.

_Collapsing._

* * *

_This and the next chapter were the hardest chapters I had to write for this story. _

_The last section I really debated to show either Wodensfang or Toothless' mother's POV. So I thought maybe show Toothless since we haven't seen his POV in a while._

_Anyway, hope to see you all soon :). _


	8. I Did This

_Memories_

_Chapter 8: I Did This  
_

There was rain everywhere, and the old dragon had no way of seeing where to go. He had no indication that he still was here on the Night Fury Island. Then again, if he was, there would have been other Night Furies swarming the island.

But it was not the case here.

He lifted his head in the air, and tried to find the charcoal dragon's scent. First, his nose went to the little one's scent. On his left, wedged between his leg and the ground was the hatchling. Sleeping. He tried to find scent. But there was nothing there.

A chill went up his spine. He felt…. _Alone_. As though he was the only dragon on the island, aside from the hatchling. _Speaking of the hatchling…._ His thoughts went to the charcoal dragon. Did she take off to safety, at least?

He prayed that she got away safely.

Sniffing the ground, his thoughts once again went to the battle he witnessed. How there was so much blood everywhere… and he pulled the little hatchling off the Whispering Death. And hid him in the woods beyond the war.

But he could not ignore the blood that came from the hatchling's mother.

He stopped and looked down. Somehow, he had caught her scent. But… there were only scales. And- He growled in shock. Thin-like scales that were shaped like-

_Tailfins._

He lifted his head. _Then she would have not made it off the island_.

A few hundred feet or so in front of him… was a dark shadow. _But it isn't,_ the Wodensfang realized. It was a body lying on the ground. From his location, it looked like a dragon was sleeping.

He stepped closer to it.

The Wodensfang gasped at the sight of the Night Fury. It was definitely her. The charcoal scales were hard to miss, despite the camouflage in the rain and the dark sky.

She laid there.

Cold.

Small.

Fragile.

He walked over to the dragon, and nudged her head. Praying. Hoping she would move. Hoping she was just resting. He glanced down her entire body, noticing large bites on her. Her head stained with red marks of teeth. Her neck was disproportioned. Her tail was bloodied, no longer supporting fins.

But she did not move.

There was a wave of pity that washed over him. Like… he did not know what to say. And what could he say? It was all too familiar for him. It wanted to make him regurgitate his last meal. The thought… of the similarity in his life… made him _sick_. The blood did not help in the case of smell; it was strong and burned his aged nostrils.

_I did this._

There was nothing else he could do. The only plausible thing he could do was mourn. Mourn for the Night Fury who did anything she could to protect her son. If that was not bravery…. He did not know what was.

Her eyes opened slightly. An unsteady rhythm of breath escaped her mouth. It was a faint noise, but it was there. He sighed in relief.

She was alive.

Her eyes, once a beautiful blue shade, were stained as red as her tail. There was some indication that her eyes were there, but the old dragon doubted that she could see passed through the stains. She moved her head, trying to find Wodensfang. Or some other dragon. "_Where… where's my son?_" she whispered.

The Wodensfang sighed. She asked one simple thing and he could not allow himself to speak. He could not trust his voice. He might break. He might lose his strength.

"_He's safe."_

She sighed happily, with little strength she had. "_Thank the ancestors…._" She lifted her head. "_Please… can you…."_ He could tell she was struggling to breathe. "_Please take care of him…. Promise me you will."_

There was hesitation from him. In any situation, a male would not have cared for a male hatchling. It just was not natural. No other male would have taken care of her son.

But he was not a normal male.

He sat down. He gave in the lost feeling. The loss of hope. "_Yes. I will."_

A faint sigh again escaped her mouth. "_Thank you…_"

The whisper sounded final. Draining out the last bit of life left in her.

He rested his head against her temple. Her wet, silent body. Never to beat of a well heart ever again. He could already feel the mixture of his pitied emotions spur from his eyes and hit against her scales.

It was an odd custom, he would admit. He had seen Night Furies do this to the deceased, once they had passed. To recognize that the deceased will always be remembered. And he knew of her bravery. Her selfless.

This was one thing he would never forget.

He sighed. "_I… I am so sorry_."

* * *

_….Many years ago…._

The dragon blinked.

He couldn't remember what happened.

Everything was fuzzy for him.

Did-did he fight a _Monstrous Nightmare_?

He stopped to think. Searching through his memory. For something. And indication that he fought and stood bravely enough against the opponent…

But all he could see was fire.

_Fire._

There was _fire _everywhere on Berk.

Dragons above him were taking fish and sheep, and ignoring the hollers of the Vikings. Small cries came from small creatures, and the females dodged the dragons' wraths. The males started to throw weapons against the dragons, causing some of their own and the dragons to fall in defeat.

Fire was set aflame on the houses and the world screamed of death. There was no coherent sound he could make out. Only that dragons and Vikings were fighting. They were killing. They were bringing death.

_I did this…_

Wodensfang tried to stand up, but his foot felt numb. He tried to press his weight against it, but it only hurt more. He held in his growl of pain. He could not alert any humans. It was bad enough he could not walk. Now, he was not sure if he could fly.

He wiggled his tail. It did not appear broken, at least. There. He could fly. He could leave Berk. The nest. The death and the destruction.

He could leave everything and go back to the Night Fury nest. To home.

_But… Hiccup…._

Wodensfang searched his dizzy mind to the running humans._ I can't leave Hiccup, _he decided. Hiccup should not be in such a dangerous place. At least... for now. The dragon could take him back here when the fight slowed down, or until the dragons found another place to raid. And he and Hiccup could be happy… _living away from here._

"Get out of here!" he heard someone shout.

He looked over and saw as Hiccup tried to push him to fly away. The human was persistent, and the dragon was as equally stubborn.

"I can't leave!" Wodensfang shouted. He couldn't. Not when his best friend was in danger. He could not leave his friend.

Hiccup pushed the dragon more. "They're killing them, Woddie! You'll be dead too!" the Viking insisted.

"Hiccup! Get away from that dragon!"

A large Viking charged. His wild eyes, mixed with fret and flames. In one hand, he wielded a sharp object, and had it aimed for the dragon's head. The speed he was charging at… there was no way he was stopping.

Hiccup stood in front of Wodensfang. "_No,_ Mammoth! He's a friend!" he shouted. He spread his hands out in protest, making him a shield between his brother and his friend.

There was a moment of hesitation from the charging Viking. His face became mixed with confusion and rage. "What are you- _what_?" he asked in disbelief.

Wodensfang tried to stand up on his leg again, but he ended up on balancing on his three other legs. "I mean no harm," he said. Maybe if he spoke Norse, Mammoth would not be afraid of him.

Mammoth looked at Wodensfang in fear. "Hiccup… did he- did he just s-speak?" he asked in a high pitched voice.

_Nope, that did not work,_ Wodensfang realized.

"He's harmless!" Hiccup insisted.

The much larger Viking pushed his brother aside. "This is a _demon_ from Hel!"

Wodensfang watched at Hiccup fall to the ground. It was almost a slow moving moment for him. He didn't allow himself to watch Hiccup hit the ground.

_No! Hiccup!_

The dragon's rage went to the Viking. Instincts yelled in his thoughts. His protective side took over and venomous thoughts breathed in his ears to attack. _How dare he hurt his Hiccup!_ He immediately lost focus and allowed his instincts to take over. He could feel his mouth burn up with plasma. Feeling his chest charge up his reflective shot.

"No! Wodensfang!" he heard.

However, it was too late. His chest retracted. The plasma screamed to leave his mouth. It roared from his burning mouth. Burning. Charging. It prepared to fire and-

"NO!"

The blackness soon left him, the last few seconds it took over him. His eyes opened to the world. He could still see the fire, but now it was merely two shadows that got his focus. One was hutched over the other as it laid lifeless on the ground.

He shook his head. "Hiccup?" he asked.

His eyes went back in focus. In front of him, he saw Hiccup hold his much larger brother against his chest. The boy's eyes were covered in tears. Sorrow. Longing.

As for the larger Viking…. He did not move.

The Viking laid still, as he was caressed by Hiccup. His hand which held a tight grip on the pointed weapon… was limp. His eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the blood-filled sky. As though he would forever stare up.

But Wodensfang did not, at first, notice this.

The first thing he noticed… was what Mammoth carried on him.

He was covered in blood.

The blood…It stanched the dragon's nostrils. Burning in the flesh of fire against human skin. Stanching the place with its unholy appearance. But here it was…

_I did this…._

Wodensfang walked over to Hiccup, slowly. What- what had happened? How… how did he not know to…?

He didn't understand. Yes, he knew that Mammoth was no longer here. He got that he had charged up his plasma-blast and fired. He knew… but he did not believe it.

_What happened?_

The dragon bowed his head. Inching closer to the human. "Hiccup, please. I-I don't know what came over me," he whispered. And he meant it. He never wanted to hurt. Let alone… kill anyone. He wasn't a killer. He _wasn't._

He _wasn't _a killer.

"You devil."

Wodensfang lifted his head. Those words were poison, even to listen to. But Hiccup- Hiccup would never call him such a thing. His Hiccup… was not like the other Vikings. He wasn't built strong or powerful. He wasn't vicious. He was intelligent. Kind. Compassionate.

This was not Hiccup.

And he was not Wodensfang.

He watched as Hiccup's pained face changed to one of vengeance. Those green eyes that Wodensfang admired... they were replace with red and yellow. It might have been from the reflection of the fire around them, but the dragon knew this look, from dragons and Vikings.

He did not expect Hiccup to bear those eyes. Ever.

"What-"

"**_Go!_**_"_ Hiccup demanded. In emphasis, he grabbed his brother's sword and swung it at the dragon, causing the beast to step back.

The Night Fury cowered away in shame, obviously understanding the message. He ignored the throbbing pain in his foot, and turned around. Ignoring the blood-filled cries of the Vikings below. He merely followed the retreating dragons back to the nest.

Leaving Berk behind.

* * *

The hatching lifted his head, which immediately began to pound in pain. He groaned in annoyance. The pain did not feel like a cut, but it still hurt. Feeling his head with the back of his paw, he checked if any blood had come out. He knew how to do this from his mother.

However, there was no source of blood.

He glanced to beside him. It felt cold, which was strange. Did he not recall the Wodensfang sleeping beside him? He vaguely remembered the old dragon carrying him off here.

_So where is Woddie?_

He lifted his head up slightly. Rain was falling, and he suddenly felt colder. Where was his mother, who always kept him warm? He stood up and balanced himself on his feet, ignoring a couple of pains on his body.

Somehow, he decided to look farther in the distance. _Maybe Woddie went to find Mom_, he figured. Instinctively, he sniffed the air for Woddie's scent, and then his mother's.

He glanced up and saw dark-blue scales in the rain. He suddenly went excited and chased for the old dragon.

"Woddie! Woddie!" he shouted. He suddenly slid against the wet rocks and knocked in the old dragon's back. But he easily stood back up and nudged his head against the old dragon. "Have you seen-?"

He looked up at the Wodensfang.

"Woddie?" he asked.

The old dragon did not respond.

The hatchling looked at what his friend stared at:

His mother.

At first, the hatchling did not notice what was wrong. She's probably sleeping, he figured. He walked over and cooed at her. "_Mom?"_

He pushed his paw on her head, but she did not stir. He felt scared: his mother always woke up when he did that. "_Mom… wake up Mom."_

He nudged his head against hers with force. She _had _to get up! Why wasn't she waking up? "_You got to get up, Momma!_" He tugged on her ear. "_The bad dragon's gone now."_

"_Woddie… what's wrong with her?"_ he asked, scared of what he would hear. He noticed his voice was high and squeaked.

The old dragon sighed. "She… she's gone."

"Where?" he pushed further. He knew the answer, but he wanted Woddie to be wrong. He did not want to hear the answer.

"_She's gone."_

It was thought his entire young life had crashed. He felt alone. _Cold_. Just like his mother was at the moment. He didn't want to leave, but he did not want to stay. He just wanted his mother.

He couldn't tell if it was rain or his own tears that fell down his face.

The hatchling released the loudest roar he could conjure up. It rang in his ears, but he did not care. It was not as bad as the pain that he felt knowing that he was alone. That his mother was gone. His head and chest hurt more than his ears.

Weakly, he rested his head on hers.

The old dragon nudged his head against the hatchling's body. "_Come. We must go_."

_Leave_ his mother? "_No! I am not leaving her!"_ the hatchling shouted, clinging to the charcoal Night Fury.

The Wodensfang lowered his head. "_I know. But the Whispering Deaths will be back."_

The Whispering Death… he recalled the monster. The monster who attacked his mother. The one with the bite mark. The hatchling growled. He wanted to find that Whispering Death and hurt him. Like he hurt his mother.

The hatchling suddenly remembered. The old dragon had been with him the entire time. He did not help his mother. _He _ran away.

It was _his_ fault.

"_Leave me alone!"_ the hatchling shouted. He retracted his teeth at the old dragon. The _useless_ dragon. He remembered what seemed like forever now that his mother said that the old dragon would die soon. Well, the hatchling could care less if he died. "_Leave me alone!"_

The old dragon stared down at the runt. Yet… and the runt did not pay too much attention… the old dragon looked… _sad._ As though he was sorry. The same look the runt would show his mother when he was in trouble.

The runt snarled and turned his head back, resting his head against his mother's head. He would stay with her. He would. He would never leave her. He will stay here with her forever.

He did not notice that he was soon all alone.

It was just himself and his silent mother.

* * *

_I listened to a bit of "The Land Before Time" soundtrack to help me write this tear-jerking chapter. Like Littlefoot's mother and Mufasa from the Lion King, when they died. (*sniffs*) Why do I put myself through this torture? :'(_

_Leave me a review and tell me what you think of it :)_


	9. Night Fury Lost

_Memories_

_Chapter 9: Night Fury Lost_

The rain continued to fall. From what it looked, due to the continuous drops of rain, it was not going to stop anytime soon. It fell with vigorous strength and chill, falling harder with each strike in the night. Or maybe it _was_ day.

The hatchling could not tell. The raindrops seemed to have grown bigger. And they were so many of them together that it blocked his vision. He could feel it getting heavier on his back, pushing him closer to the ground. It was hard to walk with the constant pressure of water drowning him from the world.

He shivered under the rain.

"_Woddie_!" he called out.

He ran a little, picking up his wet paws off the ground. The old dragon had to have been somewhere, right? It was not like the old dragon could have gotten far. He would never have left the hatchling by himself in the rain. _Or maybe he found shelter,_ the hatchling thought to himself.

The running… it turned out not such a good idea. He slipped, and slid against the wet rocks with a hard thrust against the bottom of his chin. He shook his head. It did not hurt, but he still stood up with some caution.

_I'll make sure not to run in the rain,_ he told himself.

Where _was_ the old dragon?

"_Woddie? Where are you?"_ he called, a little louder.

There was no response. There was only the silent rain, hitting against his back. Sliding off his scales and on the cool rocks and grass.

Memory of his dead mother came up. Dead. Cold. Broken. He could not have done anything to wake her up. It was like she said what seemed like a life time ago:

_We all go to Tomorrow, in one way or another_.

Oh, how gullible he was then. He had thought that it was the Wodensfang that was leaving soon. He was old. And lonely. He hardly ate. It would have been him to have left. _He lived a long life, didn't he?_

No. It was his _mother_ who went to Tomorrow.

The hatchling sniffed, trying not to allow any tears escape his eyes_. No. It's all that old dragon's fault,_ the runt moaned. He didn't help them. He did nothing to help her. All he did was take the hatching away. And leave him to bump his head and fall asleep. _It's his fault!_

Lightning cackled.

The hatchling jumped what seemed like so high in the air. He did not anticipate any lighting to appear. He had remembered when he first saw a lightning storm and he felt safe with his mother. He did not feel afraid of the lighting when his mother was with him.

_But Mama is not here…_

Sparks flew from behind and hit his tail. He almost jumped a foot above the ground. AH! He started to run again, trying to escape the slashing noises of the lighting. It lit up the sky in flashes, creeping up behind him as he ran. The booming thunder shook from miles away in response.

Once again, he lost his balance and slid on the wet rocks. This time, his stomach hurt. It scraped the cold stone and he could feel all his weight pushing against his belly.

He looked up and saw that the small forest was ahead of him. Quickly, he ran in the woods and hid under a tree.

The lightning continued, as it thrashed in the night sky.

He huddled his body closer together. Not knowing if it would help against the rain, cold or the lighting. But he was certain that he wanted not to be alone. He hated this. He wanted his mother. He wanted to be warm. He hated the lightning!

He wanted his friend.

_Where are you?_

* * *

_…Many years ago…._

He searched.

He searched.

He looked.

But he could not find it.

Where was it?

He thought hard, as he searched the nest, for what felt it had been the thousandth time that week. Luckily, it was nearly empty with dragons alike, to not engage suspicion from the other dragons. They had left early to hunt for the Queen, as per usual. But Wodensfang had heard from a few of the Zipplebacks that the humans were celebrating some sort of new holiday, which generated more food.

_Where is the Jewel? _

Wodensfang was lucky the Queen was not here, either. She had left the nest a few days ago to lay her eggs. The dark blue dragon shuddered. Those dragons did not hatch for a hundred winters, and once they were hatched, they fought to the death. The soul living one became the next Queen after the mother Queen passed.

_Where did it go?_

So the Night Fury was able to search for the Jewel. But it had been tricky; almost everywhere he searched had some sort of smallish-looking stone that was a different colour. Yet, the dragon knew that the stone would have glowed near the presence of a living being.

_Did I leave it on Berk?_ He wondered.

But… it had been so long since he had been on Berk. Maybe a few months had passed, but he was not sure. Wodensfang had assumed that the stone was destroyed, but then he heard of a Viking having great power and using it to keep the dragons at bay.

_Oh no…._

Without a second thought, he spread his wings and jet up through the exit of the nest. He had to go to Berk as soon as possible!

He could only hope no human thought to pick it up.

Or worse-

_Discover what it could do._

He pushed through the hailing storm. It did not occur to him earlier that it was hailing. Then again, this was the Barbaric Archipelago (from what Hiccup said that the Vikings had called it), and it hailed for three moons each passing winter.

The thought of Hiccup caused him to moan sadly. He had not wanted to stay away from Berk; he had tried a few times to take the courage to go back and apologize. But every time… he backed out of his trip. He could not face Hiccup again. _Not after what I did…._

But it looked as though he would have to face his friend soon.

He stopped moving, allowing his wings to levitate himself over the huge ocean. From where he hovered, he could see the entire island was on fire. It lit up the cool winter sky with blazes of dragon and human fire alike. So alike… Wodensfang could not tell if it was from one animal alone.

It was a full war now.

Wodensfang flew closer to the island. He was thankful that his scales matched the darkness of the sky. Well… not too much. He _did_ wish that his scales were as black as the night. He chuckled to himself. _What I would do to meet a Night Fury that actually had dark black scales…_

The Vikings below held their weapons at bay, charging at the dragons. Wodensfang dove down to the small island, and did his best to hide behind the buildings that burned with reds and yellows. But it proved to be a challenge, with the Vikings running about. One Viking almost tripped over him, but he was hidden behind a fallen pole.

He ran over to the house on top of the hill, and scrambled to the roof as quickly as he could. He prayed to the gods in Valhalla that he did not get noticed by anyone. But here, it allowed him to see if he could find the stone from a high distance.

His eyes searched through the dragons and Vikings alike. He almost ignored the dying cries of both sides of the war. He was looking for the purple glow. The stone only glowed when it was being used, after all. _Someone has to be using it during this battle, right?_

Something near the middle of the village caught his eye. A man… surrounded by other Vikings… stood in front of a Monstrous Nightmare. Wodensfang recognized the dragon as the one who lead the first hunt a few months prior. The dragon still bared the scar that Wodensfang gave him.

_The same one that beat me, _he realized.

The Monstrous Nightmare lit himself on fire and roared at the man, baring his white teeth with bravery. He scraped his claws against the stone ground, ready to attack. It seemed as though he already saw his victory at hand.

But the man was not intimidated. He raised his sword and swung at the Monstrous Nightmare.

It was almost a blur for Wodensfang.

He blink.

The dragon's head rolled at the man's feet.

Wodensfang almost cried in shock and horror. Yes, he had seen dragons and Vikings killing each other. But only to the extent of them just biting or flaming or stabbing. He did not know that Vikings were literally taking dragons' heads off.

He created a vibrating noise in his voice, a trill only one person would know to hear.

The man turned his head to the direction of the forest. "The devil," Wodensfang heard the man whisper from the ground. The man left the village undetected and entered the top of Berk, away from the peering eyes of Berk. The dragon followed the man as he entered the forest.

Wodensfang took off and flew in the forest, to the place where he and his friend would always meet. The dragon landed on the grass with ease. He kept his stance high, to show some superiority, as though he was challenging the title of Alpha. Wodensfang tried not to show weakness. I cannot show weakness.

The man stopped in his tracks. He, too, stood with pride and power. It was though he knew this stance. He didn't seem to want to back away from this fight. It was too late, anyway. His once green eyes, now charted with fire colours, stared at the dragon with hatred.

Wodensfang had no doubt who this human was.

"Hiccup," the dragon whispered, with both relief and sadness.

The man frowned, although the dragon could not see from under the man's hood. But when he spoke, Wodensfang recognized the man's facial expressions. "You shouldn't have come back, Wodensfang." His hand went for the glowing stone on his neck. "I don't want it to end this way."

The dragon stepped closer to his towering friend. "Please, Hiccup," Wodensfang begged, his blue eyes staring at the man's fire ones. "The stone has corrupted you. You are _not_ a dragon killer. You are a good person." He frowned. "Please end this violence."

Hiccup laughed. But it was not the heartwarming kind that Wodensfang was used to hearing all those summers they spent together. It was malicious and dark. Full of power and anger.

"You killed my brother, and I promised myself to protect my village from ever feeling that pain ever again." He frown again. "But they cannot keep attacking if their Queen is dead…" he trailed off. "You know where the Queen is. Tell me where she is."

The dragon felt a chill go down his back. He couldn't tell Hiccup. There was a darkness in the boy. And Hiccup was no longer himself anymore.

And he sensed that the man wanted to kill the Queen. If the Queen died, what did that mean for the rest of the dragons? Would they no longer be protected under the insane protection of the Queen? The dragon knew the herd would have been better off not with the Queen, but she kept them safe under her control.

"You don't have to do this," Wodensfang insisted. "If you just give me the stone-"

"Why? So I can go back to being a _fishbone_?" Hiccup asked. "My brother was a chief, you know. He would have fought the dragons until they drove away from Berk." Wodensfang cringed at the mention of Mammoth. Hiccup, however, chuckled to himself. "No. _I_ am not weak. I _will_ get rid of every last dragon."

Wodensfang gulped.

"Give me the stone," the dragon ordered.

Hiccup held the stone. "No… you will tell me where the Queen is."

The dragon felt something take over his mind. It was a darkness. Clouding his vision and whispering in his ear constantly. It took over his thoughts with poisonous pounding. His head hurnt. He tried to focus away from the darkness. But it kept sucking him back in, and poisoned his vision with each second.

_You will tell him, _it whispered.

Wodensfang shook his head. He had to shake off this darkness.

_No!_

But he could not rid of it. It refused to leave him alone. It was tar stuck to his head, and drowning him away from the world.

There was only one thing he could do.

He lifted his wings and flew away from Berk once again.

* * *

The old dragon huffed as he walked through the rain.

It felt like days since he could find the hatchling. But how could he tell? It had been raining. Raining. With no stop.

And it did not help that his bones were aching him. He had been walking for what felt like days now. Pains ran from his knees and up to his hips. Every step was a struggle for him. And he tried to keep himself occupied from the pain. But he could not.

Truthfully, he felt alone.

There were no dragons around. IF there were, the dragons would have huddled together to protect each other from the treacherous lightning and rain. With the hatchlings underneath the adults. An adult's scales were more durable than a hatchling's, after all.

But there were no signs of any Night Fury.

_They must have flown away._

If this had happened…. maybe a couple of weeks ago, he probably would not have minded. In fact, he might have been thrilled to be alone for once. Never bothered again. By adults and hatchlings alike. It would have been the entire island to himself.

But he did not think that.

He felt… changed.

A part of him was indifferent. Yes, he wanted to leave. He did not want to risk getting caught by the remaining Whispering Deaths, say they were to come back. He wanted to return to the nest that he hatched from, and always slept in. He wanted his quiet life to go back to the way it was.

_Yet… _

All he could see was the dead Night Fury. Her silent body… drenched in water and blood. It was so… stiff and empty.

It didn't help that the hatching refused to leave his mother.

The Wodensfang sighed, as the rain drenched his scales. He wanted to just take the hatchling away, and protect him. He just wanted to keep the little one safe. I failed her….

The other part of him wanted to protect the little one. Maybe... deep down… he wanted to be in the hatchling's life. Watching him grow big and learn how to fish. Teaching him how to fly with more confidence. Stare at the sunrise at the edge of the cliff.

_Like… a father._

A tremendous amount of guilt laid down on the old dragon. He was scared to admit it, but he had already failed the hatchling. Wet. Cold. Hiding from the lightning. _He must be so scared out here_, the dragon thought. How else would a little hatchling survive such a storm? He could barely see through it; there was no way a hatchling could.

The dragon held his head up. No. He was not going to give up. He promised to care for the little one and he that was what he was going to do. And he wanted to. He wanted this annoying, curious, and brave little dragon to be in his life. He needed a parent to raise him, and teach him how to fish. The little hatching needed a parent. And the Wodensfang needed the hatching.

With a brave huff, the old dragon trudged on. Ignoring the pain in his legs. Forgetting about the rain that splashed off his scales. Not noticing the flashes of lightning behind him. Those things did not exist to him. Not now.

_I will find you, Little One_, he promised, with devotion behind his thought.

_I will find you._

* * *

_This would have been up earlier, except that I had experienced some writer's block. But, here it is._

_I have also been writing a little sequel to this, which is the other reason why I am late with updating. It's a work in progress, but I have decided to make it more of a stand-alone story that refers to this one (so anyone knew to reading it could understand the backstory)._

_The next chapter may be the last one :(. But if I write enough, I can extend it to two more. What do you guys think? :)_

_See you soon!_


	10. Night Fury Found

_Memories_

_Chapter 10: Night Fury Found_

The storm passed, but the hatchling was still scared. It shook the tree in which he hid in, causing the little hatchling to almost lose his balance. The wind had been merciless again, and threatened the hatchling to leave the tree.

He had dug his claws in the tree, hoping they would keep him in the tree for a little longer. Luckily, the little dragon kept in the tree throughout the storm.

The hatchling snuggled closer to the trunk of the tree. "_Woddie…"_ he muttered to himself.

He blinked his eyes, as the sun hit his eyes. The storm caused him to forget how many days passed. _One… two?_ He couldn't tell. His eyes did not sting, surprisingly, but he quickly turned away.

With some effort, he brought himself to open his wings to fly. He allowed the air to breeze him up to the tall tree, and hid amongst the wet branches.

"_Woddie… I forgive you_," he called out. "_I sorry for being angry at you!" _He closed his eyes. "_It not your fault, Woddie! It not your fault!_" he insisted.

The rain continued with light sprinkles against his tail. Hanging from the branch, he could feel the breeze hit against his tail. It might have alerted predators, or even the Whispering Death, but he didn't care. He was cold, but it did not matter. All he wanted…

All he wanted was the old dragon.

_Please come back._

Suddenly, he heard a noise from below. He froze, hoping it was not the Whispering Death again. He had no doubt what he would do the next time he saw the Whispering Death.

He gulped. _Woddie, help!_

There was a pause. "_Little One?"_ a dragon asked, softly.

* * *

_…Many years ago…._

Fire.

There was fire everywhere.

Wodensfang could not make sense of the world. All his mind could process that he needed to get to Berk. _And now…._

It had been a long time since Wodensfang had been to Berk. He was not sure how many winters had passed. More than ten, probably. He only knew since his nieces and nephews were now half his size, and soon learning how to hunt fish.

The land was being attacked by dragons. Dragon hide hung from the walls of the houses, like trophies. Bone in which a dragon left behind after they died.

He searched the island from the sky, looking for a man with auburn hair. Amoungst the towering Vikings, children hurried into the houses and the wives joined to help their husbands. The men carried axes and threw weapons at the dragons in the sky, knocking them down to the ground.

_It can't be that hard to find one Viking,_ Wodensfang thought.

Yet… his _instincts_.

They told him to go to the woods again.

With a flap of his wings, he descended back in the air and followed to the woods. They were thicker from what he had remembered. It was obvious that time had passed through the trees as well was the growing village of Berk.

He landed in the open field again, to the place he spend many summers laying and eating fish with his-

"So… you have come back all these years," a man whispered.

…

_"Tell us the story!" _Wodensfang remembered his brother saying.

The old female dragon purred. "_Gather around children. For I shall tell you the story of the Jewel. It is an old dragon story, filled with magic!"_

_"What kind of magic?" _Wodensfang had asked. He was with his many brothers and sisters, listening to the old forest green Night Fury tell her tale.

"_Of old, little one_," she said. "_One that, if found, may give power to those who use it_." She purred. "_It is said that you shall only use the stone for good, as good thoughts and intentions bring the best of the power out._"

…

Wodensfang turned around. In front of him stood a rather large man. With a beard and a mustache to match his auburn hair. On his back draped a long fur cape, and his head was with the horns of what appeared to be a Monstrous Nightmare.

But the dragon knew.

"You know _why_ I came back," Wodensfang hissed.

The purple stone glowed from the man's neck, and he chuckled. "Right. The Jewel. Which has kept us prosperous, and gives us immersive power, if I may say so myself."

"Oh, and the strength to single-handedly kill dragons with your bare hands?" the dragon asked. "Because the Hiccup I knew would never kill a dragon."

Hiccup glared down at Wodensfang. "I thought so too. But obviously not even dragons can keep that promise."

The memory of the dead man in Hiccup's arm crawled through Wodensfang's thought. "I'm sorry, Hiccup. I was just trying to protect you."

The man did not answer. He looked down at his axe with a stern look. "People say things about Night Furies, you know. How they _never_ show themselves. How they _never_ hunt for food. And how they _never_ miss."

"You told them about us?" Wodensfang asked, with worry.

Hiccup laughed. "Of course not! They would have burned me for associating myself with you devil creatures. I _never_ told them, because they would have wanted to kill you! I saved myself from the glory of seeing a Night Fury. So why not savour the honor of killing one?"

Wodensfang went into a stance. The thought of hurting Hiccup pained him, but if it meant protecting his own life…

"No one has seen a Night Fury… and lived to tell the tale, right?" Hiccup asked, with an evil smirk.

Wodensfang growled. _I don't want to make it so._

_…_

_"What would happen if it is used for bad?"_ a female hatchling asked.

"_You must never use this stone for evil intentions, little ones,"_ the old dragon cautioned. "_It is said that a terrible dragon from many moons ago concentrated all his magic in the stone, and he takes control of those with weak souls. He corrupts any soul who is desperate to use its power._"

"_What would happen if it does_?" Wodensfang asked.

The elder sighed. "_It must be destroyed. Such power cannot stay in the possession of a desperate soul."_

…

Hiccup raised his axe slashed at the dragon. But the dragon's reflexes were quick, and anticipated the attack. Both dragon and Viking were in battle, and it looked as though their abilities were matched, unable to defeat the other.

The dragon pushed the man down, blocking him from the use of his axe. He growled down at the man, with no sign of remorse. His mouth foamed with a light purple plasma, ready to fire at its target.

But he looked at the man's eyes, which held a gleam of green.

This was enough hesitation for the man, who grabbed his axe and hit the dragon across his face. The dragon roared in pain as he found himself hitting the ground with force.

The dragon hissed as the man stood up and charged at him. Wodensfang lunged at the man, but this time he swung his tail at his face. The man stumbled back, with a cut under his chin from the tail. He glared at the dragon again, and hollered with a warrior cry.

The Jewel shined with a purple light in the heat of battle.

Wodensfang's eyes caught the Jewel. With one swift bite, he grabbed the axe and three it aside. The man made his hands into fists, and began to punch the dragon. Both were tearing at each other, with Wodensfang reaching with his might to grab the Jewel.

Hiccup pushed the dragon down, knocking him from consciousness. The moment the dragon hit the ground, Hiccup grabbed his axe, and held it over his head.

"This ends now," the man whispered.

Wodensfang looked up at the man one final time.

With a roar, he lunged at Hiccup.

The dragon grabbed the Jewel with his teeth, tearing it from the string of its owner. With a powerful thrust, he smashed it against the ground. With what felt like a mist of a thousand whispers ascended on the dragon.

The man began to transform. He was surrounded by mist, and a thousand whispers erupted around him. The man changed… to a small, weak being. From when he was a young adult. Yet his beard remained, but he was no longer the beefy human he had become.

He was _Hiccup_ again.

And it was Hiccup who screamed.

**_"Ahhh!" _**

Wodensfang gulped, backing away. "Hiccup?" he asked.

…

. "_But the stone will be destroyed, though?"_ Wodensfang had asked.

"_I am sure, as long as the one who has the stone has not stayed attached to it for long," _the elder explained. "_Either wise, the stone will never lose its power. The person is twisted. Evil. No longer the person they used to be. Death would be painless compared to it."_

The dragons all gasped.

_…_

His legs buckled, in a way which humans should have not. He fell to the ground, and pulled at his body. His hands went to his head, and pulled at his hair. His hollers were deadly, and filled with pain. He could not comprehend anything around him; it was though a monster was threatening to tear through his skull.

The dragon felt the urge to inch closer. "Hiccup, what's the matter?" he asked.

The man looked up at the dragon with his green eyes. The same eyes that were filled with wonder and excitement. Like the fifteen year old Hiccup used to. The same one who taught him how to speak Norse. The Hiccup who named him. The Hiccup who saved his village.

The Hiccup who was now suffering.

"P-please…" Hiccup begged, pointing to his head.

Wodensfang bowed his head, knowing full well what his friend wanted. "No! I-I can't kill you!" he said.

He couldn't. He couldn't hurt his brother.

Hiccup grabbed his dagger. With a jab, he plunged the dagger into his heart.

"Hiccup! No!" Wodensfang shouted. He caught Hiccup from his fall, and pulled the dagger from his heart. "Come! I'll take you to someone-" He searched around him frantically. Yet, it was just him and his friend in the woods. "-Someone will help you"

Hiccup shook his head. Blood spurred from both his chest and his mouth at a high speed. "I want this."

Wodensfang could feel tears forming in his eyes. "I am sorry, Hiccup."

"No, _I_ am sorry. For starting this," Hiccup whispered. He rubbed Wodensfang's head, in the place where he used to scratch him. "I forgive you. You were only protecting me."

The dragon purred slightly, but he ended up choking with tears. "The Jewel was too powerful for humans," Wodensfang said. "I didn't want to destroy it, but I had to." He bowed his head. "But… I think…I have the power…."

…

_"How does the tale end?_" the female hatchling asked.

"_Well, with the stone being destroyed," _the Elder said. "_However, the only way the stone can be defeated is by taking the form of a person, as true power is never destroyed. You see, the stone can never die, but it can be absorbed by whomever destroys it._"

"_And what would that do_?" young Wodensfang had asked.

"_Eternity_," the elder explained. "_To live for a long time is a terrible curse. You cannot die at the age of a normal dragon, but you live much longer. It's been rumoured that a dragon under the stone's control can live to a thousand years, if it is possible. But why do that when your family will die long before you will?"_

The hatchlings all nodded in agreement.

Wodensfang nodded as well. He was just lucky that this was just a tale, and he would never have to worry about the Jewel.

….

Hiccup nodded slowly. "Then… hide from us, Woddie. Never…" Hiccup coughed, and Wodensfang elevated the man's head. "-allow Vikings to catch you. You poses…. the power, so keep it safe."

He could not see Hiccup through his tears. With every passing moment, Hiccup was slipping. But Wodensfang didn't want this. He didn't want his friend to die. He could save him, right?

"Promise… promise me… y-you will."

And yet… the dragon hesitated. He just came back to Berk. He was with Hiccup now. Hiccup was _finally_ back. He was _Hiccup_ again. The dragon searched frantically around him. He could have time to look for a human to help him.

"Please," Hiccup whispered. The strokes were slower now.

"I promise," Wodensfang whispered.

"_Thank you… brother." _Hiccup smiled weakly.

Wodensfang nuzzled Hiccup. He ignored his own tears that ran on the man. "May Woden watch over you, brother," he whispered.

Slowly, the rubbing on his head stopped, ceasing its rhythmic touch. And the dragon knew… he was finally alone.

He looked down at the grown man. But all he could see was the child he saw with fear in his eyes. In those green eyes, which no longer carried a sense of life in them. They were empty; never to show light again.

The dragon looked up at the sky, which was still full of smoke. Where Berk was still fighting with the dragons, unaware that they had lost their fearless leader.

_I need to show them._

Wodensfang took off into the sky, and flew to Berk. Landing on a house, he positioned himself behind a roof. He watched as the dragons left and the sun began to rise. The Vikings were starting to clean up, and questioning where their Chief was.

"The Chief is in the woods!" he shouted.

The dragon watched the entire village search the woods. He followed them through the trees, and heard the terrifying scream of a female. He was not sure, but it sounded like the scream of a horrifying sight.

Wodensfang took to the sky again and flew away from Berk for the last time. He ignored the cries below as the Hairy Hooligans mourned for their lost chief.

As for the dragon, he silently mourned for his lost friend.

* * *

It had been some time that he found himself in the woods, where he used to glance at the sunset.

He sniffed the ground, hoping to find any indication of a small Night Fury. His nose was faulty, though; worn down from years of sniffing and keeping exposed to the lively stench of other dragons. But he knew the hatchling's scent well; it was of pine needles.

He found his nose stopping at an old tree.

"_Little One?_" he asked, looking up at the tree.

From the tree, he could see a small tail with two identical tailfins attached to the tip. The tail hung down, and slightly moved at the recognition of the Wodensfang's voice.

The hatchling did not answer.

There was a sigh from the old dragon. "_I... am sorry about your mother. I tried hard… I wanted to save her. And I wanted to help you. I know… I know how it feels_."

He paused. "_I don't care what other dragons say. I want to help you. You… you're a strong little Night Fury. And you have to show you can overcome anything_." He sighed. "_I once had to give up someone I loved a lot. It killed me when I had to say goodbye to him._"

He walked closer to the tree. There was so much of a distance between him and the tree. And he hoped he could cut down that boundary soon. He hated the silence.

"_And I am here to tell you…" _he struggled to find the right words to say._ "I will never leave you. I will be there for you… always. Because… I want to become your father." _He chuckled._ "Granted, I don't know how to love a hatchling. But I know how to protect the ones I love. I learned that the hard way."_

He sighed. "_If… you don't want me to be your father… I can be a friend. Or whatever you want."_

_Please answer, Little One._

With another sigh, the old dragon walked away from the tree. His weight wanted to crumble his legs, and he desperately wanted to fall. He didn't want to stand alone anymore.

He needed the runt.

The trees moved slightly, causing the branches to crack and the leaves to hit against each other. The old dragon looked up at the tree with surprise on his face.

_Little One?_

The runt climbed down the tree, opening his wings to allow the wind to catch him and set him down on the soft grass. The hatchling looked up at the Wodensfang with big green eyes. He inched closer to the old dragon, with a paw creeping closer to the dragon.

"_You… wanna be my Papa_?" he asked, quietly.

The Wodensfang smiled. _There you are, little one._ "_If you want me to, then I would gladly be your Papa."_

_Papa_. It sounded… _unique._ Not like Dad, or Father. But it showed that he was still like a father. He was this little one's father.

Suddenly, the hatchling nuzzled his head against the Wodensfang. "_Woddie. I call you Woddie, and you're my Papa."_

At first, the old dragon was not sure how to respond. He had not been nuzzled in a long time. And he was so caught up with emotions at the moment. He wasn't sure how to respond. Initially.

The Wodensfang nuzzled the hatchling.

"_Always_,_ Little One_."

* * *

_Again, thank you guys for being so patient. If you are confused, Wodensfang is having a flashback within a flashback (weird, I know XD).  
_

_This chapter was extremely difficult. Emotionally. _

_And one more chapter left before this ends. :(_

_Please review :)_


	11. New Beginnings, New Lives

_Memories_

_Chapter 11: New Beginnings, New Lives_

The old dragon awoke right at the peak of dusk.

He moved his head to observe the island, to where the Night Furies' sanctuary used to be. Not that it wasn't there anymore: quite the contrary, the island itself was still intact. The forest and the bushes were blossoming well, and the storm finally stopped during the night.

But it was quiet. Too quiet.

This… was his home. For many years. Not once was it ever empty, even for this long. It was only empty during Where Night Furies roamed. And now… only two remained here.

_Who knows what else is lurking out there…._

Wodensfang looked down at the hatchling beside him. Sleeping… very close to him. As though he was trying to keep warm. The runt's body was huddled together, and he snored silently with little purrs.

The old dragon had to admit: it was pretty adorable.

"_Wake up, Little One. The sun is setting. We must be on the move_."

The small hatchling stretched his wings and yawned loudly. He had slept so well last night, after finding the Wodensfang. It was not the most joyous meeting, but now he knew that he was not alone anymore. Not after the lighting storm that passed over them.

The old dragon rubbed his head against the hatchling. "_Come now. We must hurry_."

"_But the sunset_," the hatchling pleaded. "_We need to see the sunset._"

_I know,_ the Wodensfang agreed. "_We will see the sunset once we leave this place_," the old dragon promised. "_There will be plenty of sunsets once we leave this place."_ He sighed. "_I suspect more Whispering Deaths will be arriving. I don't want to stay and find out_."

The little hatchling wanted to protest, so the Wodensfang opened his wings and allowed the wind to pick him up. He glanced back and noticed the runt had mimicked him. He nodded, and looked ahead. He was not sure where the two of them were going, but they could not stay here.

As the two flew through the night, it was quiet. The Wodensfang periodically glanced back at his new son to check on him, but he did not speak. But what could they say? They were barely friends, and the Wodensfang was now his adoptive father. He took on the son of a deceased female, who trusted the old dragon to raise her son. She trusted him. She gave the old dragon a son.

_Son..._

It was still strange. His son. He was responsible for a child, basically. This little dragon, with bright green eyes that were rare in Night Furies, was his duty. The same dragon whom caused the old dragon's memories of his old life to resurface. This little dragon also trusted him with his life. And he wanted the old dragon to serve as his father.

The two eventually stopped at a new island. So far, there hadn't been any dragons, but the old dragon assumed the dragons were hiding. He landed on the island, and allowed himself to observe. It was small, compared to their old home, but it was spacious. He sniffed the air. No signs of Whispering Deaths, either. He looked back at the hatchling, who had found a pine cone and started to chew on it. _I doubt he would want to see a Whispering Death, anyway._

Soon, the sun was about to rise. The old dragon set up a nest for himself and the hatching, using some leaves and scorching them (along with the ground) with a light flame. He encircled the nest, and rested himself on the warm flame. It was not his old nest, but it would work for now. The hatchling had protested, wanting to explore the island, but Wodensfang insisted they would have time the next evening to explore.

It was only a few minutes later did the hatchling decide to speak again.

"_Woddie?_"

The old dragon sighed, and lifted his head. He had almost forgotten that the little Night Fury was still considered a baby, at least in human standards._ Why do children insist to not sleep?_

"_Yes, Little One?_" he asked, annoyed.

If the hatchling caught the annoyed tone in the old dragon, he did not show it. "_Why are you called Wodensfang?_"

The Wodensfang frowned. This was the last questing he assumed the hatchling would ask. It was just... random. And yet... he could feel the slight pain in his chest. Even after many years of thinking about Hiccup… it still hurt. "_My… friend named me."_

The hatchling tilted his head. "_Why?_"

Groan. "_He thought it was not convent enough to call me Dragon. So he gave me a name._"

"_But why a name?_" the hatchling asked.

The Wodensfang shrugged. "_Humans need to name things, in order to identify what something is. I was called Wodensfang because I was a god's protector. Or perhaps just a protector at least, according to my friend._"

The hatchling cooed. "_Could you name me_?"

Wodensfang thought. It was a strange request. Then again, he and this hatchling were not considered normal Night Furies. Or dragons, to be exact. "I_… guess I could. But what would you like to be called?_"

The hatchling circled around him, and snuggled closer to Wodensfang. "_You can call me Little One still, but I like another name." _He purred. "_You come up with good ideas_."

_Oh, like a nickname,_ the dragon realised. He knocked his head playfully against the hatchling. "_Kind of how you call me Woddie?"_

Giggles escaped the little dragon. "_So… what can I been called?"_

The old dragon looked down at the runt and studied him. He was able to bestow any name on this little dragon. Something that made him unique. "_Hmm… well…. You are a black Night Fury. The darkest one I have seen in a long time. And… your feet seem a little darker than your body. So… Blackfoot_."

The runt giggled. _"I like it. No dragon has name like that, right?"_

"_Not that I know of, Little One."_ He showed his teeth. "_Then again, dragons do not usually name themselves."_

"_Who named you?"_ the hatchling asked. "_What was his name?"_

The old dragon smiled. Thinking of his boy… it didn't really hurt anymore. It was though… his boy was here. In a different way.

Now... the old dragon… He had a reason to live.

"_His name was Hiccup_," Wodensfang said. "_He was my good friend. He was my brother. He was a brave Viking, and a good friend. He would have done everything he could to protect the ones he loved… even if it meant sacrifice. He will always be remembered._"

The hatchling cooed, and looked at the ground with a bashful look. "_I hope to have a friend like that one day_," Blackfoot admitted.

Wodensfang chuckled. "_Humans can be strange at times, but they are not all terrible. There are some… who are like Hiccup._" He yawned. "_One day… I do hope you find someone like that._"

The little dragon nuzzled his head against Wodensfang. "_I'm happy you are here, Woddie_."

"_And here I'll stay,_" the Wodensfang promised.

As his new son slept, the old dragon smiled to himself.

He was happy, and all was well.

* * *

_Many years later…._

"C'mon, bud!"

The Night Fury released a loud yawn, slowly awaking from his slumber. He looked up at the sky and noticed that the sun was high above the island. _Hmmm… a great day to go flying_, he mused.

He glanced back at the human boy near him. No, not really a boy. But a man. A man who was here with him and was his best friend. His attire consisted of leather undergarments and an entire suit used to glide in the air. And no, the dragon did not agree with it at all; he had mini heart attacks every time his Viking would jump off his back.

"_I was having a nice dream, you know_," the Night Fury muttered.

It wasn't necessarily a dream. There were moments... of himself with his mother. The distinct Night Fury with charcoal-coloured scales. Then there were those younger Night Furies that bullied him throughout his hatchlinghood. And the Whispering Death, whose scales were still scarred with his mother's bite marks.

_And Wodensfang._

The old dragon entered the young dragon's memories hard. Like a slap to the muzzle. It was sort of sudden, as though he knew something was happening. At the moment.

He shook his head, trying to not allow his memories to resurface. Instead, he looked up to the mountain that overlooked the island. Berk was an odd island that he happened to come across, not long after meeting up with the Red Death. It was filled with the odd humans that Wodensfang had spoken about during those winters of exploring and moving throughout the lands.

The dragon looked back at the young man, who held a contraption in his hand. He called it a 'saddle', and it helped both of them fly together. The man chucked, as he attached it to the dragon's back. "I know, Toothless. You were having your usual noon nap. But cheer up! We finally have time to go flying, right?"

The Night Fury, Toothless, snickered. "_I wouldn't need you if you hadn't of shot me down_."

It had been some time since he had been referred to as Blackfoot. The human was, sadly, not the best at naming things. _And Wodensfang was right..._

But the name Toothless just... stuck.

"Yea, yea. I get it. Hiccup's a terrible friend," the man mocked. Then he groaned with some humor. "Great. I'm referring to myself in the first _person_."

"_I'm not surprised_," Toothless chuckled. "_You are crazy."_

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "I find it offensive you are rather calm about all of this." He guided Toothless to the sky, and both man and dragon were one in the sky.

Toothless found that there was some time before Hiccup spoke. The dragon took a deep breath, and allowed the air to enter his mouth. It seemed to calm him down a little bit. It wasn't like the past few months have been easy for him, what with being Alpha and protecting the dragons. _Not to mention rebuilding Berk._

Soon, the two friends stopped at an island. Toothless immediately went to lie down after the fast flying he had to pull. It was straining his back a little. He cuddled to the ground and tried to sleep.

But then he heard something.

Toothless sat up and looked up at the sky, where two Monstrous Nightmares played. They were obviously an adult with his hatchling. Both seemed to be in a deep conversation, mimicking similar noises and bobbling their heads in sync. They also flew around each other, and played a friendly game of tag. Occasionally, the hatchling would rub his head against his father and purr.

Toothless tilted his head in curiosity. _I wonder how Wodensfang's doing…._

Toothless smiled to himself, allowing the good memories of his past to play in his head. The old dragon… whom he hadn't seen in such a long time. How long had it been now? Six winters, now? Toothless purred at the old memories. Of his Papa and him playing. Catching fish.

Hiccup looked up to the dragons as well. He didn't say anything, but Toothless knew what he was thinking.

"Oh… you miss your own kind, don't you?" Hiccup guessed, finally.

The Night Fury purred sadly. "_No… I just miss my Papa. Woddie."_

Hiccup smiled, and patted Toothless' head. "Well…. I'll find a way to find your family, bud. I promise."

Toothless smiled, and nuzzled his boy.

Sitting back down, the Night Fury looked back up at the sky. The bright blue sky he was so used to living in. Looking up at for the last six winters, with his human. To think at one point he was scared of the sun.

"_I hope you find your Hiccup, Papa_," he whispered to the sky. "_Because I found mine."_

* * *

_And…No. This is not the last chapter. I have written one more chapter. I just thought this would be a good pre-ending._

_You're probably wondering why I named Toothless as "Blackfoot". It's mainly for the next installment, to which I have it as "Flashbacks". However, I might change it before I publishing because I'm not overly confident with it._

_Please review! I expect to have the last chapter up within the next few days, and I'll have the sort-of-sequel up by then.  
_

_And thanks again for all of the support from you guys :)_


	12. The Dragon and His Boy

_Memories_

_Chapter 12: The Dragon and His Boy_

The darkness had finally consumed him.

There was peace.

Quiet.

It was not very sudden. Slow, it seemed. But there was no pain. No… worried. It was easy and painless. The old dragon could not explain it. He felt like he was hatching once again, but this time he did not crawl out of a shell to his mother.

He woke up.

And he was surrounded by….

_Dragons._

There was a bright light that caught his eyes. But it was not the sun; the sun was brighter. And there were definitely trees and bushes that were around him as well. In the distance, there was a waterfall that dragons went to surround. Near him were small dragon that sniffed him in curiosity.

Wodensfang stretched his legs with ease, and found his weight easier to lift from the ground. Hmm… it had been years since he could step up without pain. The dragon shook his head. _Probably my mind playing tricks on me._

He started to walk around, where many dragons were watching him. Some of these dragons he recognized, but he was still uncertain by most of them. Standard dragons, like Gronkles and Deadly Naddars, populated the land (well, he thought it was a land).

Yet… he saw humans as well.

_Humans?_ He wondered.

They were obviously humans. Hundreds of them were together, working on weapons and just talking to one another. Their bearded faces and tied-up hair were unmistakeable. Their odd clothing reeked of animal flesh and they wore horns on their heads. And they were tall and large, with thick strong arms that could crush a dragon's skull.

Wodensfang glanced closely at the humans. One of them… he recognized.

"Hiccup?" he asked, unsure.

A small boy, not much taller than himself, sat with a larger man. Both were engaged in conversation, but they both seemed to notice the dragon speak.

"Wodensfang?" the boy shouted.

The dragon gaped.

Hiccup smiled. He was small, like when Wodensfang met him for the first time. And his hair was short.

The two old friends ran over to each other and Hiccup hugged him.

Wodensfang nuzzled his head against Hiccup. "I… I can't believe it. I'm with you again." He sighed. "But… I don't deserve to see you again."

Hiccup shook his head. "Don't hate yourself."

The Wodensfang bowed his head. "I tried not to."

And the dragon meant it. All those years hiding from the humans, it was not just because of what he promised Hiccup. It wasn't only because he hated himself for killing Mammoth. He felt…. guilty for hurting his brother.

The boy smiled. "But you found a new friend. And he has a human, too."

The Wodensfang smiled. "_The_ Hiccup?" He asked. The dragon chuckled to himself. "I… I got to meet him some time ago… and he's much like you."

Hiccup smiled as well. "My many greats grandson, actually."

"That explains it, then," Wodensfang admitted. "A boy with green eyes, and he has a fascination for dragons…."

"And a knack for the most deadly ones," Hiccup agreed, trying hard not to laugh.

The two old friends chuckled in unison. It had been so long since either had the chance to laugh, and it felt good to do it once again. It was as though time nor death separated them. It felt like only yesterday the two were just lying in the grass at their safe haven, where they ate fish and practiced speaking each other's' languages.

"How did you find him again?" Hiccup asked.

Wodensfang smiled. "I'll tell you eventually, since it's a long story." He nudged the small human. "But we need to catch up again. Have you been practicing your Dragonese?" he asked.

Hiccup laughed. "_I've been dead for over three-hundred years. Of course I had time to practice!"_

The dragon chuckled. "Then again, you weren't the best at speaking it."

"_I've improved!"_ Hiccup insisted, smiling.

The Wodensfang stopped walking, and decided to sit near a pond of water. There were dragons sleeping near the banks of it, but they didn't pay attention to neither the boy nor the Night Fury.

"I figured it would have been your family who would stop the War," Wodensfang admitted.

Hiccup sat down. "I know. But why did it have to start with us?" he asked.

Wodensfang nodded again. "I guess… but it doesn't matter, right?" he asked. "I mean… I haven't felt this good in years. I feel like a young dragon again."

Hiccup laughed. "Well yea. You're younger again."

The dragon looked down at a pond, filled with fresh water. In the water, he did not see the reflection of an old dragon, with grey eyes and white scales. He saw a young Night Fury. A youthful dragon that gazed up at him with bright blue eyes, and his scales as blue as the midnight.

"How…. is this possible?" he asked.

Hiccup shrugged. "This is where Valhalla is, Woddie. And this is where all brave Vikings and dragons live after they die." He stroked his brother's scales. "A safe haven for all the previous living."

The dragon yawned and laid on the soft grass. He soon found himself purring, feeling the warmth of the ground, and the small human laying against him. Wodensfang smiled to himself. Yes, this was a nice place.

Wodensfang smiled again. "I'm glad I get to see you once again."

Hiccup sighed happily, as he stroked the dragon's head. "_Me too, Woddie_."

The two friends sat there, for what seemed like days. And they would continue to sit there, for all of eternity.

**_The End._**

* * *

_And there you have it, folks.  
_

_Man, this was some story. I remember when I first started, I just wanted to write about how there was no explanation to how the war started in the movies. Or if the books' history played anything significant to the plot. Hiccup and Wodensfang's relationship in the books was one of the things I loved about the series, and I was sad that there was no mention of them in the movies nor the show. So then I thought: wouldn't it be cool if Toothless was somehow connected with the Wodensfang?_

_I want to thank everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favourited this story. Like, seriously. You guys made this story possible. You kept this story alive.  
_

_Now... for the future of this..._

_I am currently writing a "sort-of-sequel", which involves more on Toothless and Hiccup. I've read stories about Hiccup finding more Night Furies, but I wanted to write a twist where Toothless is finally reunited with Wodensfang (and explain how they separated in the first place). It may go for a few chapters, showing some adventures of Toothless and Wodensfang that serves as the "memories". In addition, there will be more Night Furies, because Night Furies! XD  
_

_What do you guys think? Should I continue with this sequel? (If you guys are going to read it, I will definitely update it quicker)._

_Thank you all again for your support. I love you guys :)_

_~DrabbitDragonLord_


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